


Forbidden

by totheendoftheworldortime79



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Ancient Greece, F/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Smut, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-07-24 20:08:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 105,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7521346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totheendoftheworldortime79/pseuds/totheendoftheworldortime79
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She is an Amazon. He is Greek. She is a princess. He is captured in battle. An ancient Amazonian tradition brings them together but their love is forbidden. This is their story. CS AU Week 2016</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I've marked this mildly dubious consent, solely because technically, Killian's situation makes him a slave, according to the culture of the times. I've done my best to mitigate that, given my own framework. Hopefully, the text will make it clear that what is happening between THEM, they consider it to be consensual. Noncon squicks me out, so if I could write it, then I think it's reasonable. If even THAT squicks you, please do yourself a favor and hit the back button. I won't be offended. Also there are mature themes for violence, gore and sex. Battlefield scenes are included and they can be a bit graphic. Proceed at your own risk.

He felt the world change.

Drenched in sweat, covered in dust and blood, bone deep exhaustion, nothing could compare to the warmth in his breast the moment he laid eyes on _her_. It was over in an instant, a sword flashing before his distracted gaze, forcing him to parry and spin. That had been far too close, but he'd never seen such sparkling green eyes before. Nor hair the color of spun gold. A goddess in armor, like Athena. Who was she? Had the gods sent her to torment and distract him? He was not ready for the Underworld just yet. Killian lost her in the chaos but he could never forget her face or the graceful way she moved, slicing threw her enemies like water. All except him.

He'd been reared on stories of the fearsome Amazons; he'd never expected to meet one, let alone a whole army of them. If they were all like his golden goddess, why bother fighting them at all?

“Out of my way, _Greek!”_

Killian smirked and jabbed, twisting the sword in his hand. He sliced up and through, deftly removing the Trojan's wagging tongue. And his jaw. He wanted to take more pleasure in it—he was there on behalf of his king after all—but he was too tired. At times like this Menelaus's martial troubles seemed like the most idiotic reason to be fighting a war. Surely the gods could bestow on him someone more worthy rather than see all these men die needlessly? Perhaps even an Amazon.

No, any Amazonian warrior worth her salt would probably castrate their so called leaders within moments of being presented. Amazons, he'd always been told, did not negotiate. They fought. Fought like they were on the run from Hades himself, unstoppable, unkillable. That last was already proven false, as several Amazonian warriors lay dead not far from his little patch of the battle. They were mortal, just like the Greeks and the Trojans. He would do well to remember it, if he ever met the golden one again in battle.

Killian ducked and dodged, swordarm moving in a graceful arc, snapping the spear of his attacker in twain. He smacked the burly man with his shield, sword piercing the thigh. Warm blood spurted from the wound and the man went down in a heap. Killian had to step over mounds of broken flesh, men crying piteously for the gods or their mothers, but he ignored it. The sun beat down on the red plain, slowly cooking him in his heavy armor, sweat getting in his eyes. He snarled and pushed forward, looking for someone from his own phalanx.

He could not see far in his heavy helmet but quickly fell in with some nearby Mycenaeans. He thought about searching for the Amazon, but doing that would surely get him killed. This was not his day to die.

“To arms, hoplites! To arms! Rally to me!” A man on a white horse (how in the name of the gods could he ride in this chaos?) waved a pennant, trying to rally anyone who was left. They had caught a break in the battle, but Killian knew from experience it would not last. Grunting, he moved, running in the direction of the horse, his heavy armor clanging. They had been fighting since sunrise; he'd never been so tired. Young boys ran among those still living with skins of water, passing them from man to man. The blessedly cool water hit his scorched throat and he moaned. It tasted like ambrosia.

“Get these men up! We must charge to cut the Trojans off from their allies!”

A man Killian had never met scowled, blood running down the side of his face. “Is he _mad?_ Those bloody Amazons will cut us to pieces!”

“They die just as well as any man,” Killian retorted, shouldering his shield. He tried to imagine the golden haired beauty lying on the field with a spear through her chest and inwardly recoiled. No, surely the gods would spare her.

_Who the fuck are you kidding? She'd kill you in a heartbeat,_ he berated himself. Except she hadn't. She'd had him dead to rights and missed.

“They're not human,” the man insisted. “Graced by Artemis with deadly aim.”

“Then how do you explain all these dead ones?” Killian snapped. “Get your head together, you bastard! Or we're all going to die!”

“Quiet! Save your strength for the charge!”

But Killian looked around, his heart sinking. There was no support, no phalanxes forming on their flanks. They were being sent on a suicide mission. Killian grabbed the whimpering man by the armor. “Whatever you do, stay by me. Do not leave my side, understand?”

The man nodded, even as his eyes darted around for some escape route. Killian snorted in disgust, but forced his eyes front. He took mental stock of himself and his equipment. Armor dinged, a small cut on his left arm, chiton soaked through. As long as he had his sword and shield, he would be alright. He did not pray. He doubted even Zeus himself could stop what was to come.

The white rider led them forward, shields locked together. Done right, the phalanx was nearly unstoppable, but half the men no longer had their spears. Killian's had been lost hours ago under the blistering sun. He would only be able to fight once they were in close quarters. The formation was broken by heaps of bodies and other debris, only consolidated haphazardly once the obstacles were clear. Even in his obstructed view, he could see the great wall of Amazons ahead, one of them on a great war horse.

Golden hair streamed out from under the helm.

It was _her_.

He didn't know how he knew, bur he did. The lithe warrior on the horse was his goddess. She waved her sword in a circle and pointed it at the approaching Greeks.

The phalanx seemed to visibly _shudder_ ; exhausted men seized by panic, sensing their impending death. One by one they seemed to drop away, despite the calls to reform. No one could make themselves heard, especially over the terrifying war cry of the Amazons. The warrior women surged forward, spears and swords flashing in the sun. Killian felt rooted to the spot, but there was no panic in his breast. No fear. It was as if something else held him back, something he did not understand.

In a matter of seconds, the Amazons were on them, hacking and slashing through the weak willed men around him. His body seemed to move without his input, as if guided by the hand of Ares himself. He fought like a man possessed, screaming himself hoarse, felling so many Amazons his sandals were slick with blood. It was the blow he did not see coming that made his vision go black.

* * *

“Check them!” Emma called to her warriors. “We shall bring the live ones back for the Festival!”

“Is that wise?”

Emma wiped her sword on the wool of her shortened chiton and thrust it into its scabbard. “So bloodthirsty, Elsa.”

“No, it's not that.” Emma's greatest friend brushed her hair away from her face. “They're... _Greek_. Do we want them in our bloodline?”

“Are they any worse than the others we're forced to mate with to keep our people strong? You know only the best survive.”

“True. What if they smell?”

Emma laughed. “Right now, _we_ smell. Blood and death clings to our skin, sister.”

“The scent of glory, you mean. The Queen will be most pleased.”

“And even more pleased if we bring back some of them for the Festival. If a Greek can survive battle with Amazons, surely he is worthy?”

“I hadn't thought about it like that.” Elsa kicked at one of them. “Are you going to...participate this year?”

Emma wet her lips. “Only if commanded. You know I have no interest in laying down my sword yet, Elsa.”

“You are the Princess, Emma. Sooner or later you will have to mate.”

“Who says I haven't already?”

Elsa's eyes went wide. “What? It's forbidden! How could you...?”

“I'm jesting you, sister,” Emma said, sighing in exasperation.

Unexpectedly, she recalled the Greek warrior she had missed during the battle. It still rankled her. Emma never missed. What made him so special? Was he touched by the gods? Was he still alive? Why did she care? She blamed Elsa, teasing her about the Festival. It was expected of her, that she would carry on the bloodline in the form of a daughter or two. Sons were either left to die or sent back to the swine that sired them. Men were only tolerated for the Festival, the biannual celebration of her people, where a select number mated with a man of their choosing until seed took hold. The men were then cast out, left to fend for themselves in the harsh Anatolian landscape.

Emma had seen nothing in the last seven years to make that an attractive option for her. Princess or no, she didn't want to be burdened with motherhood. She was a warrior. Leave that nonsense to the farmers and the scholars.

Her warriors found a over a dozen live men strewn across the battlefield; Emma ordered them into carts to be taken back to the city. She would have words with her Trojan allies then depart. This war was not their fight. Let the Trojans and Greeks kill each other; it was no matter to her. It was a five day march back to Themiscyra and the Queen was waiting.

* * *

“What have you brought me, Emma?” the Queen asked.

Emma knelt respectfully, casting her eyes away from her aunt. Regina had ruled the Amazons for over a decade, ever since Emma's mother's death. She had no daughters of her own, so Regina took Emma in, raising her to be their finest warrior, commander of the armies. It was a role Emma was eminently suited for and she thanked the gods every day that it was so. Even if the hole her mother left never quite filled. “Men for the Festival, my Queen.”

“How many?”

“Fifteen. Greeks.”

Regina wrinkled her nose. “Greeks? Make sure they are bathed and oiled beforehand. I don't want all of Themiscyra smelling like rabid Greek.”

“As you say, my Queen.” Emma stood to go but Regina called her back.

“You did well, niece. I'll see you properly rewarded.”

She could only guess what that meant. Emma nodded again and left, barking orders for the Greek men to be prepared for the Festival. She would inspect them later.

Killian picked at the manacles on his wrists, trying to find a weakness. He'd been at it ever since he regained consciousness. He had no memory of being captured, but some of his erstwhile companions had been kind enough to fill him in. It seemed the lucky survivors of the slaughter (it couldn't truly be called a battle) were being carted off as trophies for the Amazons to use as they will. Slaves. Men to be used and discarded like so much trash. It disgusted him. It was a cruel joke from the gods, to have him kill so many of their warriors in battle only to be taken by them for a plaything. It was his punishment for having lustful thoughts about one of them, he was certain of it. Athena and Artemis using him for their sport.

The captured Greeks were kept in a dungeon, dark and dank; the only light came from the occasional torches of their captors. It was impossible to tell how many days had passed since they arrived, as there was no sign of the sun, no windows. They were surprisingly well fed and watered, but then again what threat were a dozen men in chains against the greatest warriors in the known world?

Still, Killian had no intention of sitting idly, awaiting his fate. He was a Spartan. He worked at the manacles daily, tried to make alliances in the dark. If he was alive, it had to be for a reason.

“Up, you Greek dogs! Up!”

“Oh, she sounds irate today,” Killian's nearest neighbor said under his breath. “Best heed her, men.”

“Who is that?” Killian asked.

“No idea. All these bloody Amazons bleed together. I'm pretty sure different ones feed us every day. Don't want to be tainted by us, I expect.”

“They want us unspoiled,” a somewhat familiar voice said quietly. It took Killian a moment to place it, but it was the commander that had led them on the field of battle. “I heard them talking about the Festival.”

“What in Hades' name is that?”

“Twice a year, the Amazons round up their male prisoners and offer them to the Chosen.”

“Offer them for what exactly?”

“To mate,” the commander said. “To breed more of their kind.”

“Well, that doesn't sound so bad,” Killian's neighbor said, with a chortle. “I don't know about the rest of you but I could use a good tumble.”

“We're slaves, you idiot,” Killian snapped. “You really want them to use you for a stud horse?”

“If it means staying alive, then aye.”

“Rumor has it you're forced to...copulate until seed takes root. If it does not, then you die.”

Killian shivered. So his options were refuse and die now, bow to the wishes of his captors and be used to make _more_ of them, and if he failed, die anyway.

He'd rather be in Tartarus.

The guard ordered them silent then opened the door to the cell. The men stepped through single file, chained together to discourage them from attempting escape. Killian blinked against the too bright sunlight, his eyes pained. The best he could do was follow the man in front of him, and even then they bumped into each other. Once his eyes adjusted, he counted ten Amazons guarding them, guiding them...somewhere.

“Line up along the bank,” an auburn haired Amazon barked. The men formed two lines, most with their heads bowed. Killian refused to give his captors the satisfaction. He held his head up, even as the armed women stalked along the lines using their daggers to free the men of their clothing. Fifteen men stood there without a stitch and none of the women even blinked. Some of the younger men were not so bold, trying vainly to cover themselves.

“You will each be handed a cloth. Clean yourselves in the river. _Thoroughly_. The Queen wants her prizes well scrubbed for the Festival.”

Before anyone could even draw breath, a sandaled foot poked each man in the back, forcing them into the placid river. It didn't seem that deep from the bank. Most of the men couldn't swim and it took a while for them to come up, shaking and spluttering. Killian nearly got yanked under by the man to his right and he scowled. He didn't dare speak. He just punched the man hard in the bicep and got to work. Despite the circumstances, it felt good, the cool water on his skin, scrubbing the dirt and dried blood off his body. To his surprise, his small wound was healing; it was a wonder it wasn't festering. It had to have been more than a week since he sustained it. He ducked under the water, chained hands sliding through his hair to clean it. He came up for air, gasping, and stopped dead.

It was her.

The golden haired Amazon stood at the water's edge conversing with their auburn haired guard, her armor gone, a pure white chiton in its place. The linen gathered over her left shoulder, held up with a simple silver pin, girdle cinched around her waist. She was thinner than he expected, thin but strong. His eyes traced the defined muscles of her arms, acquired from long hours of training. Ribbons from her sandals wound around her shapely calves, the chiton falling just above her knee.

He couldn't tear his eyes away from her; she was the most stunning woman he'd ever seen. Quite against his will, he felt himself get hard; he had to squat down in the water so no one would see. How would he feel about this Festival if _she_ were his Chosen? Bedding her surely would be no hardship; he liked the fire in her green eyes, the curve of her lips. Surely there was passion to match the ferocity. Unbidden, an image of her naked and writhing under him came into his mind and he stifled a groan. Even worse was an image of her above him, pert breasts bouncing as she rode him into oblivion, wild and wanton.

He turned away, praying that no one caught him. They would surely only get a few more minutes in the water. Jerking so hard the men beside him protested, he closed his eyes and took himself in hand. He closed his eyes and focused, replaying all the ways she could never be his (not that he wanted that), quickly finding his peak. He bit down hard on his lip, swallowing the moan that tickled his throat. He calmed just in time for them to be summarily ordered from the river.

A line of younger Amazons moved among them, toweling them dry and rubbing them down with oil. Killian was doubly glad he'd found completion in the water; it was too soon for him to react to feel of feminine hands on his naked body. Not everyone was so lucky. A few of the unlucky ones had their cocks cruelly teased, much to the Amazons' amusement. Killian struggled to hold his tongue; now was not the time to test his captors. He hadn't survived this long by being stupid.

Emma stood off to the side, allowing the little ones to do their work. Cleaned up, the Greeks weren't half bad. One or two of them were even handsome. Elsa's younger sister Anna was among the maidens, deftly rubbing oil into the Greeks' skin one after the next. She didn't join in the teasing, but nor did she blush. Good. Anna was a few years away from participating in the Festival, but it was pleasing to see she wasn't unduly affected by the sight of a naked man.

Anna moved to the next Greek, allowing Emma to examine her work. This one was strong, toned and hardened from battle. His cock lay flaccid, which was curious. Was he defective? Her eyes climbed higher over the hairy torso; she wet her lips unconsciously. To her surprise, the Greek was _staring_ at her. Bold as brass, his blue eyes drinking her in hungrily. It brought her up short, made her heart race. She felt her cheeks get hot; no man had ever stared at her so openly before. And lived to tell about it at any rate. His features were pleasing, his hair inky black from the water. They stared at each other for long moments, too long. Emma broke the stare first, silently berating herself. He was just a _man_ , a Greek no less. She had no use for him. She was an Amazon.

“Emma? Are you well?”

She nodded. “Yes, Ruby, I'm fine. When the little ones are finished, put them in the palace, maximum guard. I don't want them getting soiled before the ritual.” Emma turned on her heel and left; she needed to train. Right now.

Wasn't that interesting? Killian watched her go, the hard set of her shoulders, the scowl on her lips. His goddess had seen him, had looked at him like she wanted to _devour_ him. If he hadn't spent himself minutes before, he probably would have embarrassed himself. However, just as quickly as she had come, she was gone. Clearly furious with herself, she'd stormed off, giving him (he couldn't help but notice) a fine view of her bottom. Had she been as affected as he? His instincts said yes, but Amazons were unpredictable creatures. She'd probably lop his head off for his insolence.

In the end it didn't matter. He doubted he'd ever seen her again. He needed to get back to the task at hand, trying to find a way out of the godsforsaken place.

Their new quarters made it much easier to measure the passage of time. They'd been in the palace for three days, ostensibly being treated like honored guests aside from their chains. The commander—David, Killian had learned—explained that this was to keep them docile and agreeable. As soldiers deprived of female companionship for some time, it was supposed that they would jump at the chance to mate with the attractive Amazons. They were the only men in a veritable sea of women and it _was_ turning some of their heads.

Pretty Amazons brought their meals three times a day, plied them with wine. Killian seemed to be the only one who noticed the Amazons were sober and deadly with the swords at their hips. His fingers itched to try and snatch a sword and attempt a breakout, but he wasn't a fool. One Greek—even a Spartan—against six Amazons would be deadly. For him. He may take a couple of them with him, but he would still be just as dead.

His dilemma wasn't helped by his dreams. He couldn't get _his_ Amazon out of his head. She haunted him, detailed carnal visions of them together, his name falling from her lips in ecstasy. He knew it was wrong, that he was a slave and nothing that was happening to him was just, but he couldn't stop. He cursed Eros with his waking breaths for piercing him with this passion.

Emma turned the corner before he could see her. Every day she'd come. For what purpose, she knew not. She didn't even know his name, did not care to know it. It vexed her, this obsession. Thank the gods the Festival was this evening and he would be gone from Themiscyra soon. She needed to stop picturing him when she touched herself, a need that she couldn't seem to sate. It was driving her crazy.

“Emma? The Queen is asking for you,” Elsa said, interrupting her thoughts.

“I was...” She trailed off, trying to think of a plausible excuse. “I was checking on the prisoners.” Which was true, to a point.

“Has Anna been attending her duties?”

“Yes, she's done well. You should be proud.”

Elsa smiled. “That's good to hear. She's been bugging me about the Festival.”

“She's too young!”

“As I told her. However, our mother thinks it would be good for her to attend, even if only to observe.”

“After the opening ceremonies, there's nothing to see,” Emma complained. She hated the Festival, because it meant that no battle was permitted. They could train, but the Amazonian armies remained at home. Emma wanted—needed—to be fighting, not sitting around listening to her sisters indulge in their carnal lusts.

“Going to train again?”

“It's either that or go on a retreat while the Queen uses one of them for sport.” As Queen, it was Regina's duty and right to the most handsome of the captives for her own personal use. The luckless man didn't know that it was a death sentence, one Regina relished in almost as much as nearly sexing the man to death. For the Queen had never conceived a child. It was why she'd taken in her sister's daughter. Emma narrowed her eyes at her friend. “ _You're_ going to participate, aren't you?”

Elsa smiled slyly. “Of course. I've already got my eye on one.”

“Which one?” It popped out before Emma could call the words back.

If Elsa noticed, she gave no sign. She glanced into the opulent cell. “See the blonde haired one?” Emma followed her friend's gaze; the man in question was speaking quietly to _her_ choice. He seemed handsome, a little too _pretty_ for her taste. She liked her ruggedly handsome Greek better. _NOOOO, stop that, Emma._ “Handsome, no?”

Emma shrugged, praying that Elsa couldn't see her crimson cheeks. “He's alright. I'll leave you to your oogling, the Queen expects me.” She hurried off, straightening her chiton for the Queen's presence. The guard nodded her inside, after challenging her like a true Amazon. Emma stepped toward her aunt's throne slowly, respectfully, kneeling in front of the golden seat. “You sent for me, my Queen?”

“Rise, child.” Emma rose, hand going to her sword. It steadied her. “I've been thinking of your reward for your victory over those vile Greeks. A princess should be rewarded beyond other warriors, don't you agree?”

Emma kept her face calm. She loved her aunt as family, but Regina was unpredictable at best, sadistic at worst. You never knew which woman you were going to get. In her day, she'd been a fine warrior, leader of the army. Having passed that duty to Emma, Regina's tendencies manifested in other ways, not all of them good. Amazons were warriors, not really in the business of making friends with their neighbors. Regina kept them safe, sent Emma off on campaigns and that was enough for her. “What did you have in mind, Aunt?”

Regina tapped her fingers on the arm of her throne. “It's past time you took part in the Festival, Emma. I've indulged your worship of Artemis for long enough. You must do your duty and provide for the continuation of our race.”

Her heart lept. The Greek. He could be _hers._ Then she shook that thought off. She didn't _want_ to be a mother. She didn't want to lose her place at the head of the armies. “So my reward is to be yoked to a man and have his spawn? I'm afraid I must decline such an offer.”

Regina leaned forward. “Your daughter will be Queen one day.”

“Or I could have a son. What then? Toss him out to die of exposure? I know the law, Aunt. Our people will not lack for leaders when I am gone.”

“You would turn down this gift? The gift of the most handsome, most virile of our prisoners?”

“Such a thing is your right as Queen. I would never dream of usurping your place.”

Regina relaxed. “And there is no moving you? You would forgo the pleasures of the flesh? Remain a maiden?”

She only paused for a second before replying. “Such is my wish.”

“Very well. Stay by my side during the opening ceremonies, then you may go on your way.”

She only had hours before the Festival was to begin. Foolishly, she spent most of them training in the yard, trying to convince herself she was making the right choice. She was ferocious, going at her opponents with much more vigor than the situation called for, sword and spear and shield seeming to become one with her flesh. No, that was a bad line of thought because then all she could think of was the Greek and the fate that surely awaited him.

At the last moment, she headed to the baths, the cool fragrant water washing over her like a balm. She preferred swimming in the river, where she could drift with the current, where she could _relax_ ; it was her one indulgence. The one luxury she allowed herself. She'd been sneaking off there since she was a girl; no one knew it, not even Elsa. Certainly not her aunt. Regina would simply spoil it. Perhaps she would retreat there after the ceremony, shake off the memories of the Greek, pray for him. He would need it.

State occasions required she dress as the princess and not the general. Her best peplos and girdle overlaid with a purple cloak inlaid with gold, her hair spilling loose down her back. She brushed it until it shone; it would sparkle in the candlelight. Tradition demanded she go barefoot. She wore no jewelry, both out of personal taste and a desire not to outshine the Queen. Regina was very vain, particularly if there were men present. It wasn't very becoming an Amazon, but it was not Emma's concern to reason why.

The courtyard was transformed into an overwrought pleasure den; some of the “rites” would take place before the evening was over, right there in the open. Wine flowed, Bacchus would surely be pleased. Emma prayed to Artemis silently, that the goddess would grant her leave quickly before things got too out of hand.

“You'd think this was a funeral,” Elsa teased as Emma took her seat on the dais.

“Regina offered me her champion.”

Elsa's eyes widened. “She _what?_ You didn't...oh Emma, you turned her down? Are you mad?”

“I have no interest in motherhood,” she said stoutly. “Or in _men_.” _Do not think about the Greek._

“Men have their uses, Emma. Mother speaks fondly of my father. Anna's too. My own experiences have been...pleasant.”

“I'm not you, Elsa. All I want is to lead our armies into battle.”

“Suit yourself.” Elsa turned; the Greeks were being led out. Her eyes lit up when she saw her chosen Greek. Emma fought the urge to look for her dark haired man, but failed miserably. He stood to her right, looking both furious with himself and curious at the same time. He was just as handsome as he'd been that morning, fresh oil glistening on his skin, hair and beard neatly trimmed. His eyes locked with hers and she felt that flutter in her chest again. What in the name of Hades was wrong with her?

Staves clicked on the ground announcing Regina's presence. The Amazons stood before their Queen, the guards forced the Greeks to kneel. Emma caught a glimpse of her Greek, his eyes defiantly on her rather than Regina. _Stop it,_ Emma mentally pleaded with him. _She's going to kill you either way._

“Amazons! Once again, it is time for our sacred rite! The gods have gifted us the power to thrive without the vile stain of man and for this we rejoice!” Cheers filled the courtyard, Emma caught sight of Anna watching with rapt attention. “There is, however, one power that not even Artemis can bestow. The gift of motherhood. Therefore our ancestors petitioned Hera for guidance! She who is the patron of women and motherhood. Our Lady proscribed for us this ritual, where twice a year we lay with worthy men for the continuation of our noble people. It is for this and only this that were are gathered here today. For the next moon, the Chosen among you will do your sacred duty and beget daughters to carry on our ways. Then once again we shall be clean of the company of men!”

More cheers. No matter how many times Emma heard Regina give that speech, it never quite set well with her. Vile stain? The men Emma had met in battle seemed more pathetic than vile. The Greeks fought as citizen soldiers rather than as trained warriors. Aside from the Spartans. _They_ were warriors of respect. She had not yet had the honor of meeting them in battle but she lived in hope.

Regina raised her hands, asking for silence. “To prove their worth, we shall have a contest! Unlock their leg chains and deliver the training swords!”

So they were to be displayed as a spectacle before the bedding? A farcical one at that, Killian mused. None of them would stand against an Amazon. However, it quickly became apparent that his assumption was wrong. They were not to fight Amazons. They were to fight each other. Not to the death (how else would there be any of them left for this damnable rite?) but to posture and preen for the women like peacocks!

His own eyes betrayed him, flitting toward the dais as his leg chains were unlocked. His goddess sat there looking even more beautiful than he could have imagined in his wildest dreams. She was a vision in white and purple, tresses spilling over her shoulders like sunlight. He felt her eyes on him, opaque and unreadable. Another Amazon sat next to her, trying to engage her in conversation, but she seemed to be having none of it. Once again, they were locked in a battle neither was willing to back down from. This time he was the one forced to yield, as the guards directed them to positions. The wooden practice sword was heavy in his hand; his chains forced him to swing it two handed. As they were not permitted shields, Killian didn't think many of the men would last long; it was simply not how Greeks were trained. They were meant to fight as a unit, as one, not each other. The man across from him was shaking, whether from fright or excitement was anyone's guess. He was younger than Killian, slight of build, fresh faced now that they'd been washed. Out of the corner of his eye, Killian saw the guards wrap around them in a circle, spears pointed inward to discourage the men from entertaining ideas of escape. If he could get _one_ of them, he might stand a chance. With his legs free, he was fast and the sea was only a single rise away. He could make it. Even if he didn't, it would be better than becoming a plaything for one of these she wolves.

“Begin!”

Killian growled and attacked without any other warning. His man was not prepared and lost several feet, ducking and dodging, not landing any blows in return. He couldn't help but feel a little sorry for him. The Amazons only valued strength, courage in battle, and would not be kind to him. The wooden sword came down heavily against the young man's back and he went sprawling to the sand. Killian's head was on a swivel, searching for his next opponent...a shiver from behind him warned him of danger and he spun, parrying the thrust meant for his head. This he knew, how to fight, how to _live_. He couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled up, barking from his lips; Spartans were bred for the battlefield.

Emma leaned forward in her seat, thighs clenching, desperately trying to ease the ache she felt. Her Greek was fighting like no man she'd ever seen, his sword not hampered by chains. He felled man after man, circling, always seeking another. The captives dwindled steadily; of the original fifteen only four were left. They were paired off, their blows and cries overshadowed by the cheers of the Amazons. She'd been to over a dozen of these Festivals and _never_ had her body reacted this way. Heat simmered under the surface of her skin, wetness pooled between her thighs. Her dreams seemed to play before her eyes, her Greek's war cry melting into one of pleasure as he took her over and over again.

“Emma? Are you alright?”

She snapped out of her daydream and looked at Elsa. Her friend seemed much calmer than she, even as her blue eyes burned. “Yes, yes, I'm fine.”

“It seems I chose well. Look.”

Emma glanced back to the circle. Elsa's Greek stood tall, sweat pouring off his skin, chest heaving. He only had one opponent left. Her eyes locked with the now all too familiar blue ones and she gasped.

It was him.

Covered in dust and sweat, dark hair falling into his face, she would swear he was Ares come to life. Emma had never met her grandfather, but as the god of war she respected him. Many decades ago he'd concealed himself at these very games, winning the favors of her grandmother.

“We are down to two!” Regina announced, breaking Emma's reverie. “Clear the circle!”

The guards manhandled the fallen Greeks back, returning their leg irons. Most were bruised and sweaty but not permanently damaged. Thirteen of her sisters would do well tonight.

“I'm torn,” Elsa whispered harshly in her ear. “I want him to win, but then the Queen gets him!”

Emma's stomach dropped. The champion of the contest belonged to the Queen. If _her_ Greek won, Regina would claim him and he would die. Not tonight, not tomorrow, but slowly. First by the Queen's insatiable appetite then by her hand when no child was forthcoming. Panic clawed at her throat. What was _wrong_ with her? She'd not felt the like since her first flush of battle, years ago. As her mother used to tell her, only a fool was not afraid. But fear could be channeled for good. It was something Emma never forgot, it comforted her in trying times.

“Emma!” Elsa shook her arm. “What is wrong with you?”

She could not answer because the battle had begun.

Killian sized David up, looking for the right angle to strike. They'd joked during their captivity about fighting each other, but Killian had prayed it would not happen. The man was the closest thing he had to a friend in this place. And while this wasn't a fight to the death, he didn't want to get David caught up in his own escape attempt. Win the contest, then in the ensuing chaos try to disarm a couple of the guards so he could run. Not a well thought out plan, but his options were extremely limited. This was likely the only chance he would get.

David swung for his bicep, trying to disarm him quickly. Killian spun out of his way, renewed strength flowing into his arms. He countered with a jab at the man's side, which doubled David over. He snarled and rose up, sword raised high. Killian gave ground as David attacked, clumsy hacks and slashes. It brought him closer to the edge of the circle, which was well for his plan. End this quickly and he might be able to slither through without fighting anyone else.

David got him in the shoulder and he howled in pain. There would be a nasty bruise there in the morning. Unfortunately, it raised his hackles and Killian attacked, catching David mid swing and shoving back as hard as he could. David went down, yelping in pain, desperately trying to parry Killian's blows. One satisfying twist of their entwined wrists and David's practice sword went skittering away in the sand. Killian stood over him, sword pointed at his throat, triumphant.

Which lasted for a heartbeat and his survival instincts kicked in. He ignored the cheers of the Amazons and ran, a full out sprint. It was awkward with his wrists shackled and the sword in his hand, but he dared not drop it. One of the Amazonian guards knelt to tend to one of the prisoners and Killian lept, foot coming down heavily on a Greek back, then an Amazon, trying to jump the distance. It was only then that the spectators seemed to realize that his actions were not part of the show. Cheers turned to howls and a spear thrust out, tangling his legs. He screamed in pain as he hit the ground, rolling to cushion his fall. In seconds, before he could properly regain his wits, spears were digging into his skin, but not enough to break it. One hovered far too close to his eye and he dropped the practice sword in surrender.

Her heart pounding, Emma was on her feet like all the other Amazons. She couldn't help but feel a little proud; she had to respect his attempt to escape. A fool's attempt, but one she would have taken in his place. She understood. She could only pray that it did not cost him his life. At least not yet.

“Bring him!”

Emma's gaze darted between her aunt and her Greek, lip sucked between her teeth. Regina was difficult to read. If this were any other man, Emma was sure he would die on the spot. But he'd won the games. Regina would never accept second best as her champion. Did it even matter though? Whether now or four weeks from now, the man would die. It was the law.

Why did that thought fill her with dread?

_What should I do?_ Emma prayed silently. She didn't even know which god to pray _to_ , but she couldn't stand there and do nothing. _Regina offered you the champion. Use it._ But she'd turned that down. She didn't want to be a mother. She didn't want any of this. Unbidden, her eyes fell once more the Greek, head held erect as he shuffled forward. More dirt and sand covered his naked flesh, he had the beginnings of a couple of bruises, one on the shoulder and one on his hip. She'd never questioned her people's laws or customs before. It was simply the way things were. However, she knew in her heart that this man did not deserve to die like this. He was a proud, brave warrior. He deserved to die on the battlefield, a hero's death.

The guards forced him to his knees, but he looked up at the dais defiantly. “Your name, Greek?”

“Killian, milady.”

Killian. His name was Killian. Emma sucked in a breath, trying to reign in her racing heart. “Just what did you hope to accomplish with that little stunt?”

“Escape, milady. Spartans did not take kindly to captivity.”

Holy Hera, he was _Spartan_. It made perfect sense now, her attraction to the man. If any Greek could be worthy of an Amazon, it was one from Sparta. “Do you know how we treat prisoners who try to escape, Greek?”

“Death, I would imagine.”

A smile curved her lips. Even in the face of death, he knelt there unafraid. She was so caught up in the revelation that she almost missed the command to fetch Regina's sword. “My Queen!” Emma cried, stepping forward.

“Yes?” Regina did not look pleased at being robbed of her fun.

She swallowed. “This Greek has fought well. He has won the games. Surely this merits a reprieve from the gods?”

“How so?”

She scrambled for a reason. “It is the law, my Queen. The winner is your champion, earning the right to lie with royal blood. Would you abdicate that to another?”

“But he is wild and untamed, I doubt Queen Hera intended for the royal line to be...tainted thus.”

“I will claim him,” Emma retorted. “You were right, Aunt. It is time I did my duty to our people. I claim him as spoils for my victory over the Greeks and as princess of the Amazons.”

Regina felt torn; long had she desired for her niece to indulge in the ancient rites, but her instincts told her the Greek was trouble. More trouble than he was worth, no matter how pretty. In other circumstances, he was the perfect plaything for her, to be used and discarded. She would have enjoyed breaking him. However, she could not tolerate disobedience from a slave. Still, she could be patient. If he failed in getting a child on her niece, he would die anyway. And if he did...she could wait until he was well away and send someone to end his life. Emma would never know.

“Very well. He belongs to you.” Regina bowed in Emma's direction and she nodded, breathing a sigh of relief. The other Amazons cheered; Emma was well liked amongst them. She nodded to the guards, indicating they could take the Spartan to her suite. He caught her eye, a multitude of emotions playing behind them. Then he turned the corner and was gone. Emma stayed behind, watching the other Chosen select their mates. Elsa got her man and looked very pleased about it. If Regina was upset about going without, she gave no sign.

Spears poked him from behind, urging him in the right direction. He was still reeling, trying to figure out precisely what had just occurred. And why he was still alive. He'd fully expected to be executed, determined to face death as a Spartan should, with his head up. Then the princess (sweet merciful Zeus, she was a _princess_ ) intervened. For him. She'd saved his life (for the moment) and he could not figure out why. He tried to distract himself by memorizing the path to the princess's suite, but it was near impossible. All the passages looked the same. The palace felt like a maze, some god's diabolical plan. They shoved him into a room and ordered him to stay there. Two of the guard remained outside, to ensure he did not try to flee again. Not that he would get far with his legs chained.

The rooms were filled with moonlight, the orb bright and clear in the sky. He had until the _next_ moon to find a way out. Or die. And how would he spend those weeks? The princess's rooms looked more sparse than he expected. There was pallet on a platform, clean linens, a couple of soft stools. It looked more like a campaign tent than quarters for royalty. But he'd seen the princess fight. She was a fearsome warrior, likely eschewed creature comforts. A red silk cloth hung around the pallet, affording a spot of privacy. Was this where she would have him? Would he let her? Did he have a choice? He'd dreamed of her, but he never expected to actually have the opportunity. He thought he'd either be dead or halfway to Sparta by now. But the gods appeared to have other plans for him.

The gods must hate him.

“Have water, cloths and salve brought to my quarters,” Emma ordered. She'd broken free of the Festival at last, attempting to hide her nerves with demands. She wasn't afraid of her Spartan, but she had no idea how he would react to her. Their fleeting moments in no way prepared her for what came next. She was still buzzing from watching him fight; she _wanted_ to bed him, in spite of her desire to remain unencumbered. But if he'd been trying to escape, she doubted he'd be amenable to her desires. Captives weren't supposed to have the choice, they were slaves in the eyes of the law. But she couldn't force him into her bed. Perhaps others could, but she could not.

“Have fun with that one,” one of the guards, Aurora, said as she approached. “A _Spartan!”_

Emma forced a smile. “Once I have my supplies, you may depart.”

“But Princess...”

“Do you really think he could best _me_? Am I not the head of the army? I think I can handle one weakened Spartan, Aurora.”

“The law says...”

“Fine. But move to the end of the hall. I would have the Spartan to myself.”

“Yes, Princess.” Aurora looked a bit put out and not just because of the law. Not among the Chosen herself, she wished to live vicariously through Emma, listen to their coupling. Oh well. Perhaps this would earn Emma a measure of trust from the Spartan.

She stepped through the doorway, eyes seeking him in the moonlight. He didn't seem to be in her room. Had he jumped off her balcony? It was a hundred cubit drop; he'd probably break a leg. She moved that way anyway, faintly wishing she had a weapon. She prayed she didn't need it, after all she'd done for him.

He was on the balcony. Not attempting to flee, merely looking up at the sky. The soft light of the moon washed out his tanned skin, emphasizing his chiseled features and dark hair. Even covered in dirt and sweat, her body ached for him. He was beautiful.

“Come to inspect your prize, Princess?”

His boldness both surprised and excited her. “My presence was only required through the opening ceremonies, Spartan.”

He turned from the sky, eyes on hers. “That doesn't answer my question.”

“Perhaps it is because you are speaking out of turn.”

“Why did you save me?”

His steely gaze unnerved her. Where was her water? “Would you rather die by the Queen's hand, Spartan?” she snapped.

“My recent escapades aside, Princess, I don't have a death wish.”

“Then why run? You had to know the consequences.”

“I thought I explained that rather well.”

She laughed. “Because you are Spartan? You're still only a man and men are weak.”

Somehow they'd closed some of the distance between them, his nostrils flared. “If that is so, then why are we here? Could the gods not grant you the power to procreate without...assistance?”

Emma inhaled sharply; she could feel the heat radiating off him. It called to something deep inside her, a yearning she did not know she possessed. “It is not our place to question the gods.”

Killian wet his lips, raking his eyes over her alluring form. Her golden hair was silver in the light, her skin pale and perfect. He could see the curves underneath her peplos...wanting her was not a problem. He doubted she'd ever been bedded properly; from her words with the Queen, she'd never enjoyed the Festival before. Why not? Gods, she was beautiful. She was the kind of woman men fought over, like Helen. Killian had never seen his Queen up close, but he would wager that his princess was the more beautiful.

A servant came hurrying into the suite, breaking the charged silence. Emma sighed in relief. “Come, allow me to clean you.”

Killian cocked a brow at her. “Is that usual for royalty? Or is such an honor only accorded to the champion?”

She rolled her eyes and yanked on the chain linking his wrists. “Come.” To her surprise, he followed her calmly enough. The serving girl lit candles, the room glowed yellow and orange. Emma indicated for her Spartan to sit on one of the stools and she dismissed the girl.

“Dismissing your servants, is that wise?”

Emma scowled. “Are you going to give me trouble, Spartan?”

“Depends on what kind of trouble you mean, Princess.”

She produced the key to his chains from the folds of her peplos. “I...” She took a breath to steady herself. “I would like to find an...accord with you, Spartan. I have, as you mentioned, saved your life.”

“Unless I don't get a child on you,” he pointed out. “That is the point of this Festival, is it not?”

She huffed. This was not how she wished this to go. Why was he being so obtuse? “Fine, have it your way.” She pocketed the key again and dipped a cloth into the water. After squeezing it out, she began at his throat, deftly wiping away the grit and sand from his skin. Naked men normally did not affect her, but she was still wound up by his display in the circle. The muscles rippled under his skin as she cleaned it; she couldn't help but touch his flesh. He was so still, it scared her a little. Was he preparing an attack? Her eyes found his and they were nearly black. His breathing was shallow, his skin hot and not from the water.

When he stood, she knew why.

He wasn't defective at all.

Emma swallowed and glanced away, realizing she was staring. How could she not with a gloriously thick cock in her face? The Spartan was much larger than most of the men she'd seen. She flushed, heat building in her core. Her hands shook a little as she continued her task, wiping down his hips and thighs. Swallowing thickly, praying the shadows hid her blush, she washed the dirt from his crotch, ignoring his little whine of pleasure. Moving on, he hissed when she touched the tender spot on his left hip.

“Does it hurt?” Gods help her, her voice cracked with desire.

“I've had worse.”

“I...uh, have a salve. It should help.” She didn't know why she was explaining to him; he most likely didn't care. Indeed, his erection probably didn't mean anything either. The length of time without a woman, most likely.

Killian nodded, clenching his fists. She was making him crazy, like Bacchus trying to claw into his head. The mere sight of her made him hard at the river and now she was touching him. Her hands were softer than he expected, her touch even tender. He couldn't help himself, his cock standing painfully at attention. Why was she going to all this trouble? It was clear fucking her wouldn't be a problem for him, so why not just take her pleasure and have done with it? Chained as he was, he could hardly resist her. Instead, she was taking her time, scrubbing him clean, hardly glancing at his cock. The cool salve touched his skin and he hissed again, pain lancing up his side.

“Apologies. You took a hard fall.”

“I remember.”

She looked down at his leg irons. “I'd like...I'd like to remove these. If I don't clean under them, your skin will chafe.”

“What do you want from me, Princess? A vow not to run?”

“That would be a start.”

“Leading to what?”

“Do I have your word?” _Please,_ she prayed, _be reasonable, Spartan. Please._

He considered her, then nodded. She clearly wanted something, but was having trouble articulating it. He was thoroughly intrigued by her, even against his better judgment. There were certainly worse things in the world than the charms of a beautiful woman, even if she was an Amazon.

Emma produced the key and unlocked the chains. She tossed them aside and washed away the dirt around his ankles and feet. Then she grabbed a clean cloth and stood so she could clean his face. Killian went very still, waiting to see what she would do next. More salve went into the bruised shoulder, then she bade him turn around. She repeated the process down his back, leaning close to inhale his scent. Salty, earthy, all man. She struggled to suppress a moan, thighs clenching. How could the gods be so cruel as to give her this man, one who surely would want nothing to do with her?

“Princess?”

“Yes?” Water ran over his buttocks, she bit her lip.

“Why did you save me?”

“Can you not rejoice in your good fortune?”

“Is it good?”

She finished the back of his legs and stood, damp fingers grazing his skin. “It could be.”

Could be not get a direct answer out of her? “Do I have a choice?”

“Yes!” She winced, not expecting her voice to be so loud or so vehement. “I know what the law says, but I will not force you, Spartan.”

“Killian,” he whispered. “My name is Killian.”

Emma took a deep breath and turned him to face her. He was still erect, his blue eyes burning with desire. She breathed deep, her nipples hardening. “Do you want me, Killian?”

“Is it not obvious, Princess?”

Boldly, she slid her hands over his abs and curled them around his cock. He groaned as she stroked him, which told her she was doing it correctly. There was no reason this could not be pleasurable for both of them. “Perhaps. Or perhaps you've been too long without a woman.”

“I am not some callow youth, Princess. This is your doing and only yours.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“Because I saw you, when we were forced to bathe in the river. I was utterly taken by you, aching in the cool water. I had to...relieve myself, lest I be caught lusting after you.”

Emma did not bother to disguise her moan, pushing him against the wall. No sooner did his back hit the wall than he crashed his lips to hers. She was caught off guard, having never been kissed before. Killian did not stop, showing her how it was done. She caught on quickly, opening on instinct when he pressed his tongue to her lips. Emma rubbed her body against his hard one, trying to have everything at once. It was overwhelming, this need she felt.

Killian was frustrated by his manacles; he wanted to hold her, to remove the broach holding her peplos up so he could stroke her curves. If she was giving him the choice to bed her, then he was taking it. He'd regret it, if he did not. And he had no intentions of going to the Underworld with that kind of regret. “Princess,” he gasped, moaning as she took control of the kiss. She was every bit as fiery as he'd imagined, but he needed to be free. He broke the kiss, skimming his lips over her jaw, down her throat. “The chains. Please.”

She seemed to snap back into herself, if only for a moment, hands finding his between their bodies. “Can I trust you?”

Her pleading eyes broke him. Any thought of teasing her flew from his mind. “I swear on my life, Princess.”

She fumbled for the key, lost somewhere in her peplos. “Emma,” she said. “I'm called Emma.”

“Emma,” he said reverently. He held out his wrists in supplication, waiting for her to find the key. Her triumphant smile warmed his heart. She unlocked the manacles and they fell to the floor with a clatter. There was dirt under the cuffs, his skin was abraded and red. It hurt her, seeing what had been done to him.

“May I?”

He looked confused for a moment, then nodded. She fetched a fresh cloth and cleaned those wounds as well. She went for the salve but Killian stopped her. “If I don't have you soon, I may burst,” he confessed.

She blushed, actually blushed, something she never would have expected. To hear that he yearned for her as much as she did him was everything she didn't know she wanted. Nodding, she reached for her broach, unpinning it. The silk fell to the floor. Killian drank her in, the soft curves of her breasts and hips, the strength hiding under miles of pale skin. “So beautiful.” He reached up, fingertips tracing the swell of her breast, other hand sliding over her hip. He pulled her to him, dipping her head back so he could kiss her.

Emma mewled, her skin on _fire_. Everywhere he touched her burned, nipples teased by his coarse chest hair, throbbing cock pressed into her belly. She grabbed his neck, trying to get closer, trying to crawl inside him. Killian snaked his hand between them, finding her sex wet and swollen. His touch caught her off guard and she jerked, knees going weak. _“Gods.”_

“So wet, Emma. So wet for me.”

“Ugh,” she whined. He was touching her most private place, rubbing the sensitive nub, a place only she had ever touched like this. She needed him inside her, wanted him more than she'd ever wanted anything. She was about to just fling him on her pallet when he picked her up and carried her there.

He wanted to spread her thighs and tongue her into the next life, taste her, but he was gripped by madness. Next time. Next time he'd worship her as she deserved. They would have four weeks to enjoy this, whatever it was. The gods had clearly brought them together for a reason and Killian was beyond questioning it now. This woman wanted him, needed him with the same fervor he needed her. As she said, it was not their place to question why.

She let him spread her legs, kiss his way up her torso. He suckled on her nipples and she cried out, not realizing how erotic that could be. She was having trouble recalling why she'd waited so long to participate in the sacred rite. This was heavenly. His cock nudged her and she reached down to stroke him. “Take me, Killian. Take me!”

He looked up at her, groaning at her urgent touch. She was more than ready, at least he thought so. He'd never bedded a virgin before. “Hold on to me,” he warned. He pressed the tip of his cock to her dripping hole and slowly slid forward. She cried out, but not from pain. Her body stretched, sucking him in, deeper, and he was helpless against her. He panted, fighting the urge to move, letting her adjust to his size. She grabbed his cheeks and pulled his lips to hers, kissing him deeply.

“It feels...gods, it's so good.”

With great effort, he pulled out a little, thrusting shallowly. “Princess...I need....gods, I need to _fuck_ you.”

Mustering her courage, she kissed his lips. “Do it.”

He pinned her hands above her hand and began to ride her, her tight sheath gripping him. It felt better than any dream, the way she moved under him, the sounds spilling from her lips. He would not last long, she was too hot and too tight and he was mad for her. He pushed her right leg back to her chest, pounding into her, broken words telling her good she felt around him, how he intended to worship her thoroughly. Emma could only hang on, her skin feeling like it was melting around her. She was awash in sensation, a knot coiling in her belly, ready to burst at any moment.

Killian grit his teeth, determined to bring her pleasure before he took his own. She deserved that. He reached down to touch her nub, circling it with his thumb. Emma screamed, her walls clamping down in him hard as she climaxed. It had _never_ felt like that, not even under her own touch. She was well versed in bringing herself pleasure, but this was hot and intense, the feeling of being full increasing her ecstasy. Killian rode her through the aftershocks (another new experience for her), his hips stuttering until he grunted softly, jerking as he spilled his seed inside her. He collapsed on top of her, his strength sapped. Between fighting and fucking, he was exhausted.

Emma lay there, trying to breathe, to get her bearings. Her lover rolled off her which allowed her to breathe, but did nothing to settle her racing mind. She'd done it at last. She given herself to a man, experienced the pleasure her sisters whispered about. She tried to focus on _that_ because it did not frighten her. It was incredible. No wonder Amazons were so keen to be Chosen. She'd thought that denying herself would make her a better warrior, but perhaps she was wrong.

Killian groaned, rolling onto his side. What would happen now? Did he stay with her? Would he be sent back to the cells, only to be summoned when she wanted him? He hadn't thought about any of that before, so eager was he to have her. But it was worth it.

“Killian?”

He raised his eyes to hers, surprised at the fear he saw in them. Had he hurt her? “Yes, Princess?”

She scowled. “Emma.”

“Is that only for when we are like this? I am a stranger here, I do not know your ways.”

Her face softened and she rolled on her side to face him. “To be truthful, I do not know much about it myself. But I like the way my name sounds on your lips.”

“Emma.” He touched her cheek. “Apologies if I hurt you.”

She frowned; granted, she felt a little twinge but she was an Amazon and accustomed to pain. “I don't believe you did. It was...better than I dreamed.”

He smirked. “You dreamed about it? About me?”

“Don't get cocky, Spartan.”

“May I make a confession?” She nodded. “I dreamed about you as well. That if I had to suffer this, I would want it to be at your hand.”

“Suffer?”

He looked away. “Poor choice of words. My people have tales about yours, mostly to frighten the children. But given my captivity, can you blame me for believing the worst?”

“No, I suppose not.” She bit her lip. “Is it wrong of me to be thankful that you were captured?” Now that she'd had him, she couldn't imagine giving herself to anyone else this first time.

For some reason, that warmed his heart. “Didn't you admonish _me_ for questioning the gods?”

“True.” Spontaneously, she leaned forward and brushed his lips with hers. He sighed and let her kiss him, weaving his hand in her soft tresses. They tangled themselves together on the pallet, Emma stretched out over his broad chest.

“Emma?”

“Hmm?”

“What happens now?”

She raised her head. “Do you...want to stay with me?”

“I get a choice?”

She stroked his flank; she couldn't seem to stop touching him. “Some of my sisters keep their men with them, others send them back to the cells.” She looked into his blue eyes, taken off guard by the emotion she saw in them. She couldn't place it, but it made her feel good. “I'd like you to stay.”

He grinned, hand rubbing her back. “However shall we pass the time?”

“Prayer?” she suggested, taking his acquiescence as a good sign. “Or you could tell me some of these stories your people have about Amazons?” She moved, straddling his hips. Taking his hands in hers, she urged him to cup her breasts. A breathy moan escaped, his thumbs circling her nipples, eyes watching her hungrily as they hardened. “Oh.”

It would be a few more minutes until he could take her again, but he wasn't feeling so tired anymore. Not with his goddess astride him. “Or we could fuck until neither us can walk?”

Emma nodded, shaking her hair out behind her. Killian sat up, taking one of the hard buds into his mouth, relishing her soft cry. If this was the gods' plan for him, he would obey.


	2. Chapter 2

There was someone in her bed. Warmth pressed against her back, across her belly. She went from groggy sleepiness to alertness in a heartbeat, snarling. She kicked and rolled, on her would be attacker in the space of a breath, forearm pressed to his throat. Blue eyes shined up at her, tears forming as he clawed for air.

It all came back to her. The Festival. The games. Killian in her suite, in her bed, in _her_.

With an anguished cry she rolled off him, apologies already on her lips as he gulped down air. He rolled away from her, still gasping and she felt rejection slice through her. Ridiculous perhaps considering that she'd attacked him without warning, but it hurt anyway. It was not something she'd ever dealt with before and it scared her that it bothered her so much.

Killian rubbed his throat, breathing deeply to get his heart rate under control. He confessed this wasn't how he anticipated the morning after such scintillating sex. A glance at the open balcony told him it was yet morning, far too early in the morning after such strenuous exertions. Emma had been insatiable, taking to the sensual pleasures of the flesh like a sea nymph to the vast oceans. Clearly, he'd not worn her out enough if she was awake at such an hour. He rolled onto his belly, groaning.

She could take the silence no longer. “Killian?”

“Making up for missed opportunities, Princess?” His voice was hoarse from having his throat almost crushed.

“What?”

“You don't remember.”

“Remember what?!”

He looked up at her with a mixture of awe and amusement. She could not figure out what was so funny. “Our meeting on the battlefield.”

She frowned, thinking. And then it came to her. The Greek soldier she'd missed. “That was _you_?”

“It's always nice to make an impression.”

She huffed, shoving at his shoulder. “I should kill you.”

He cocked a brow at her, not frightened by her in the slightest. She'd shown him a sweetness during their brief time together, bringing him even further under her thrall. He had to be, since he'd made no attempt to escape in the night. They'd paused long enough for her to rub salve into the scrapes on his wrists, but she'd never made any attempt to chain him or control him. Her trust that he'd keep his word touched his heart. “Perhaps one day you'll get the chance, Princess.”

She frowned, the all too familiar flutter in her chest. She couldn't imagine him dead, certainly not by her hand. “Is that what you think of me?”

Killian couldn't read the expression on her face. Was she _fond_ of him? “Amazon, Spartan, Princess. Seems rather inevitable, no?”

This conversation was suddenly too heavy for her. She got up, shoving the blanket aside. She walked to the balcony, not bothering to cover herself. She felt some soreness in her core, another reminder of everything they'd done in the night. She'd made a terrible mistake. She couldn't do this. _It's already done_ , she scolded herself. _Even now you could be carrying his child. Fool._ Why had she given up her independence? On a whim? For a _Spartan?_ She must be mad.

“Emma?” She did not turn but Killian joined her on the balcony. Tentatively, he touched her shoulder. “I didn't mean anything by it. Forgive me?”

Her name on his lips cut through her tangled emotions. Whatever else, he sounded tender and sincere. It reminded her of why she'd saved his life. Abruptly, she turned, standing up on her toes to kiss him. He grunted in surprise, but pulled her in by the hips. Once again he found himself trapped between his Amazon and the stone, her hands on his body, rousing him. He growled into her kiss, flipping them so she was the one trapped, his mouth still hot on hers. He did not understand her abrupt change in mood, but he did not fight her. They broke for desperately needed air; Emma was dizzy, high on the feel of his skin against hers. His beard rubbed her more delicate skin, along her jaw, her throat. She clutched at him, retracing the strong muscles of his back, following the curve of his ass. “Killian,” she breathed.

“Are all Amazons this...needy?” he murmured into her collar. He groaned as she gripped his hardening shaft. “Fuck, just like that.”

“I don't...gods,” she whimpered, back arching against the stone. He suckled at her breast, drawing the sensitive bud between his teeth. “More.” She whined as he sank to his knees, lifting her leg and throwing it over his shoulder. He nosed at her blonde curls, fingers spreading her wide. She was confused as to his intent until his warm tongue touched her wet flesh. She scrambled for purchase, her legs suddenly feeling like water. Killian held her up effortlessly, his hands under her ass as he seemed to devour her. He licked and nipped at her flesh, almost mimicking the way he kissed her mouth. A litany of needy moans tumbled from her lips; she sounded quite unlike herself. But Killian just had her undone.

She tasted sweeter than the tastiest nectar, the flavor bursting on his tongue. He groaned against her, holding her as she jerked and writhed in his arms. It was intoxicating, seeing his goddess so vulnerable and wanting. The sunlight danced on her skin, her hair, her glistening sex. He couldn't get enough, even as his own need settled in his belly. He played with her nub, swirling his tongue around it, sucking it between his lips and Emma screamed, climaxing without warning. He drank down every drop of her ambrosia, leaving her shaking and breathless. He couldn't help but feel a little smug as he tenderly kissed her inner thigh before carefully letting her down.

Emma leaned heavily against the stone, out of breath, but feeling strangely empty. She'd peaked, but she still felt restless. Slowly, she opened her eyes, finding Killian watching her. Her gaze dropped to his prominent erection and suddenly she knew what she craved. Emma wet her lips, chest heaving, fingers reaching out to touch him. He smirked, thrusting into her exploratory touch. “Again, Princess?”

She pushed off the wall, her eyes dark and predatory. It excited the hell out of him. She was an Amazon, taking what she wanted. “Isn't that your job, Spartan? To service me?”

He groaned as she gripped him. “So it would seem.” They backed up until he hit the low wall of the balcony. “Fuck.”

She licked his nipple, pressing his cock to his stomach. “I want you. Right now.” Half of the palace would probably hear them, but it was one of the unspoken aspects of the Festival. No one made much of an effort to hide what was happening. The future of her people depended on the Chosen conceiving, sex was how to make that happen. What no one had really enlightened her about was how much she would enjoy the act itself. Sex wasn't anything like what she expected. Elsa had tried to tell her, but it had fallen on deaf ears. No more. She wanted to enjoy this man and everything he could do to her.

“I am yours to command, Princess.” He was helpless against her lust filled gaze, her obvious desire for him. A desire he shared.

She wrapped his arms around her waist and hooked one leg over the edge of the balcony. He lifted her enough to allow her to guide him to her aching heat, groaning as she slid onto him. Ugh, she felt so full when he was inside her. They ground together slowly, her arms around his neck. He found her lips and kissed her passionately, his hips jerking. “Yes, oh yes.”

“So...fucking...hot...around...me,” he breathed, thrusting a little harder each time. He wanted her screaming his name, let this whole palace know who was pleasuring their princess. How she writhed and moaned for him.

“Gods, don't stop. So good.” She moved with him, moaning even louder when he lifted her other leg to curl around his hip. He gripped hers hard, urging her to move, to ride his cock. Emma looked down, the sight of him sliding in and out of her made her burn hotter. “Yes, yes, yes!”

“Say my name, Emma,” he growled, trying desperately to stave off his own high until she climaxed. “Tell me who does this to you, who you need fucking you like this.”

He adjusted the angle of his hips and she screamed. He bottomed out, she was shaking, clawing at his shoulders, so, so close to coming. When she let go, there was only one word on her lips. _“Killian!”_

He grunted, hips rocking madly, fucking her through her orgasm. He lifted her legs and spun them around, sitting her down on the ledge and pounding into her, seeking his own pleasure. Stars burst behind his eyes as he fell, rutting into her like some wild animal. She relished it, her moans sure to be heard a long way. Killian leaned on her, panting harshly, his legs shaking. He didn't understand the thirst he had for her, how he couldn't seem to get enough. If this was how their first night and morning transpired, how would he survive the next four weeks?

Emma held him close, stroking his back. She was beginning to love the quiet moments after, when they were too breathless and sated to speak. She felt tingly and warm, such a contrast to her previous life of training and toil. She felt _alive_ when he touched her and it frightened her more than any battlefield. At length, he straightened up and she tried not to let her feelings show. But Killian simply smiled at her and helped her to her feet. Not letting go of his hand, she tugged him back to the pallet. They stretched out facing each other, neither quite sure what to say. Their earlier conversion was an obstacle course Emma didn't want to tackle.

Killian wound a lock of her hair around his finger. “I think the whole palace heard that.” He tried to be flip about it, like it meant nothing. To everyone outside this room, he was there to do precisely what Emma had said: service her. Have sex with her until a child took root in her flat belly. He didn't know how, but he knew that whatever this was between them was more than that. If he believed she was merely using him, he would have begged her to kill him instead.

Emma bit her lip, avoiding his eyes. “Does that...bother you?”

“You're assuming I have a choice in the matter, love.” The endearment slipped out, but he found he did not want to take it back.

She stilled his hand and forced him to look at her. “Between us, you _always_ have a choice, Killian. I swear on the River Styx.”

The full force of her vow hit him like a hammer. People did not swear on the River Styx over trivial things. The consequences for breaking the vow were too great. Oathbreakers would find themselves on the Fields of Punishment in the Underworld. It made his own vow the night before seem cowardly. He opened his mouth, but she pressed a finger to his lips. “Don't. It would be much more difficult for you to keep such an oath. And I...would not see you hurt.”

He kissed her finger tenderly. “Is that why you saved me?”

“Yes.” She could give him that simple truth.

“May I hold you?”

She scooted closer, sighing as his strong arms came around her. She'd not been held like this since her mother's death. She was an Amazon, a warrior, royalty. She did not seek comfort for her hurts. How had this Spartan gotten under her skin so quickly? And what in the name of Zeus did it mean?

“It doesn't, you know.”

“What doesn't?”

“Bother me,” he replied, answering her previous question. “It's not like anything we're doing is a secret.”

“In my case, it's a matter of state,” she joked. It felt flat to her ears, she wasn't good at telling jokes or teasing.

He chuckled. “When I first saw you, I had no idea you were a princess.”

“I'm a warrior first,” she said stoutly.

“I surmised that when you tried to decapitate me on the fields of Troy.”

“Are you glad I missed?”

“I think the more important question is: are you glad you missed?”

She looked up into those blue eyes, so afraid of the emotions warring within her. But she could not lie to him. “I am glad, Killian.”

His lips brushed her brow. “Then so am I.” Nothing more needed to be said right now. It was beyond him to surmise just what the gods intended by bringing them together like this. He had to believe it was for a reason. He smiled when she buried her nose in his chest, finally relaxing from the excitement of the morning. She even drifted back to sleep. He kissed the crown of her head, following her to the land of dreams not long after.

Killian was still there when she woke a second time, but she did not panic. No jumping, no choking. She was still wrapped up in her Spartan's embrace, his scent filled her nostrils. He smelled of earth and musk and sex; it sent a frisson of desire down her spine. But when she moved her hips, she winced. The sex on the balcony hadn't hurt at the time (it had been mind blowing, in point of fact), but she could feel it now.

“Emma?”

She stroked his hip. “It's nothing, sleep.”

“Gods, you smell amazing,” he mumbled, holding her tighter.

She laughed in spite of herself. “Hmm, so do you.”

“So men smell good now? I don't offend your Amazonian sensibilities?”

“I don't know about men, but _you_ smell good.” She kissed his chest, working her way up to his collar. He groaned and rolled them so he was on his back. She lay sprawled over him, lips caressing his skin. He felt utterly relaxed, a far cry from how he expected captivity to be. Beneath her tough warrior exterior, he was beginning to believe his princess had a kind heart. How that boded for the future, he knew not.

A low rumble interrupted them, which made Killian laugh. “Hungry, milady?”

She suppressed a smile. “Perhaps.” She hadn't eaten since before the opening ceremonies. Then she frowned. “When was the last time you ate?”

“A few hours before they escorted us to the arena,” he replied honestly. Having proper nourishment was one thing he had no complaints about. It was in the Amazons' best interest to keep their captives strong so they could perform adequately. He didn't think Emma had any complaints in the regard.

Emma was up before he even finished speaking. She ignored the twinge in her core and yanked back the satin concealing them from prying eyes. To her surprise, several bowls of food and a pitcher of water lay on a short table. “Oh.”

“What?”

“It seems the servants have anticipated our needs.” She pointed to the feast. If there was food and drink in her room, then it must have arrived while they were sleeping. Sleeping without Killian restrained in anyway, wrapped around each other intimately. Not Amazon and captive. Lovers. Lovers who did not want to part. _Don't think about that._

Killian rose from the pallet and stretched his tall frame. Gods, he was so handsome. Everything about him pulled her in, made her yearn for him. Aside from appreciating his body, she had a million questions about his people, how they trained their warriors, their women, their customs. She was especially intrigued by stories she had heard about them; rumor had it that Spartan women were held in high esteem. Judging by the way Killian treated her, she wouldn't be surprised if that were true. He did not try to cover his nudity which she felt was a blessing and a curse.

“Are you blushing, Princess?”

She scowled. “Don't be silly, Spartan.”

He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her middle. “You seem to forget that I've already seen you blush, love. It's just us here, you don't have to...”

“I don't have to what? Be some swooning damsel? A simpering fool, desperate for your cock? Think again, Spartan.” She pushed him away, marching to where her peplos lay on the floor.

Killian growled to himself. She was so skittish. Every time he tried to get close, she pushed him away. Did she really believe he didn't respect her? That he continued to stay with her because he merely wanted her body? With his shackles gone, he could sneak out of there anytime he wanted and probably make a decent run for it. He could escape this farce of a ritual and go back to Sparta. Find a real Spartan woman to slake his lust. But he was still there, because of _her_. Emma. If the gods had truly brought then together, then why didn't she trust that?

“Princess.” She huffed. “Emma.” Her shoulders relaxed a fraction. This time when he walked up behind her, he didn't touch her. “I saw you at Troy. I saw you leading your army, the way you fought. You on the war horse, charging us. You were...magnificent. I would never doubt your abilities as a warrior. But...” He finally caressed her arm, the one that wielded her sword. “You are a woman too. You're not betraying your people by being kind to a stranger. Or soft.” He tipped her chin up, her green eyes shined but he saw the confusion she felt in them. It broke his heart. “I've decided to trust you, Emma. I hope that you can come to trust me as well.”

Emma bit her lip to keep it from trembling. She didn't understand him, she didn't understand all these feelings she was experiencing. She wanted him to hold her and she wanted to run. Shame washed over her; Amazons did not run. Not from anything. Why didn't anyone tell her it would be like this? Why did she save him? In the end, she was weak and stepped into his arms. He held her quietly, allowing her a moment to compose herself.

“Perhaps it would be...easier if I dressed?” he asked gently.

Yes, dressed was good. “Just a moment.” She found a spare woolen peplos and helped him put it on. She pinned it with one of her silver pins; it hung perfectly. She found herself smiling. “Now you look like a true Amazon.”

He laughed. “I don't believe I have the build for it, Emma.”

She touched his chest. “I like your build just fine, Killian.”

“Shall we eat?”

She smiled, feeling her discomfort ease. They sat cross legged across from each other at the table, Emma poured water into clay cups. She offered one to Killian and he accepted it gratefully. Now that they'd found a moment, he found he was parched. He embarrassed himself with how quickly he gulped it down. “Apologies, milady.”

She rolled her eyes. “I'm a soldier too, Spartan.”

He grinned, a warm dimpled smile. How had she not noticed it before? It made her heart do that fluttering thing again. “Like Athena herself,” he agreed. She refilled his cup, then did the same with hers. Talk of soldiering was safe. She munched on some fruit, wondering if she could trust her voice. “You're making me nervous, love.”

“It was not my intention.”

He covered her free hand with his. “Can we not go back to last night?”

Her fingers moved, entwining with his. How easy things were last night when all that was between them was desire and mystery. “Is it that easy?”

“Perhaps not, but I would have you smile again.”

“Are Spartan women affected by your charms, Killian?”

He ducked his head, tossing a grape into his mouth. “It has been many years since I've seen home, Princess.”

Yes, it had been years since Helen was taken. Emma thought the idea of going to war over something so trivial was madness but did as commanded when Troy called for aid. She didn't regret her decision to leave them to their petty little war. There were more glories to be found elsewhere. “Do you...have anyone who misses you? Family?” _A woman?_

“Only my brother.” He glanced away. “He died, two winters ago in an ambush.”

“Apologies, I did not...”

“It's alright, love. I will see him again in the afterlife.” He missed his brother; Liam was a good man, good soldier. But he would not dishonor his brother by wallowing in grief.

“My mother...she died, some years ago.”

“And the Queen is your aunt?”

She nodded. “Queen of the Amazons must be a woman grown, I was still a child. She took me in, saw to my training.”

“Sounds lonely.”

Again, she looked away, unable to process the emotion in his eyes. Why was he trying to get to know her? He owed her his life, yes, but that didn't mean they had to be friendly. She ignored the voice that told her that it would hurt _her_ if something happened to him. That she liked the time they'd spent together so far. That she wanted to spend _more_ time with him. She cleared her throat. “So...these stories your people have. You never got to tell me.”

“We were a bit preoccupied, love.”

She rolled her eyes. “Tell me now. Please?”

He could sense he'd touched a nerve, so he decided to retreat. Bawdy stories about his people and their view of the outside world were safe. His comrades extolled his virtues as a storyteller and he put that to good use, even getting her to smile and laugh. However, talking so much about his home made him miss it. The war over Helen had been going on years now; Killian had been there from the beginning. It didn't seem to have an end. How long could Agamemnon and Menelaus justify all the death? More men died of disease than of wounds. The pitched battle from which he'd been captured was the exception rather than the norm.

Part of him felt guilty for seeming to...enjoy his situation. He'd been so dead set on either escaping or dying; finding himself in a princess's bed, his golden goddess from the battlefield was disconcerting to say the least. For some unfathomable reason, they were connected, perhaps had been before they met. His education in Sparta rested on obeying the will of the gods, respecting them. Surely, it had to be divine influence bringing a Spartan and an Amazon together in such a manner.

They polished off every morsel of food; it was good to have a full belly again. But once that task was done, he could see Emma getting restless. “Something wrong, Princess?”

She loved his stories, loved listening to him speak, but that was precisely why she was so unsettled. She liked him _too_ much. She was afraid of losing sight of herself by being with him. Tradition or no, she needed space. She needed to think without his pretty face distracting her. She wanted to relax in the baths and soothe her body and her mind.

“I, uh, thought I would bathe.”

He knew a tissue thin excuse when he heard one. “Is that allowed?”

She frowned, realizing a complication she had not thought of. “Yes, but...Killian, I'm sorry, but you'd have to stay here.”

“I'm confined to your rooms?”

She bit her lip. “According to tradition, you'd need to be chained to leave here.” She touched his wrist. “I don't want to do that to you. I'm reasonably certain the Queen will stay true to her word about me keeping you, she's...unpredictable.”

“What do you mean 'keeping me'?” He did not like the sound of that.

“How much do you know about the Festival?”

“Just that I am to bed you until you get with child. And that if I fail, I die.”

She winced. Suddenly, the tradition seemed barbaric. “There's a reason we hold the games. The winner becomes the Queen's champion, as you heard last night. As in the Queen's personal...mate.” Killian's blue eyes grew stormy. “Killian, my aunt has never conceived a child. I'm not sure she can. All of her mates have died.”

“So you're saying that you saved my life twice.”

“In a manner of speaking, yes.”

He stood, running his fingers through his hair. “I suppose I should be grateful, _Princess._ ” He marched toward the balcony, needing air. He should have known Emma had not saved solely from the kindness of her heart. She'd taken him so her aunt would not have him.

Emma worried her lip between her teeth, afraid she'd hurt him. At length, she went after him. “Killian, I...”

“Do I need to service you now, Princess?”

She stood her ground. “No! You know I would never force myself on you. I gave you my word!”

“So you could selfishly have me for yourself!” He turned, hands gripping the railing so hard his knuckles turned white.

Tears pricked her eyes. Was that true? She desired him, she knew that. Was that why she saved him? Were her intentions not as pure as she believed? She took a deep breath and touched his arm. “Killian...”

“Go have your bath and leave your slave to stew.”

“Killian, please look at me?”

She sounded so broken that shame washed over him. Even if wanting him for herself did play a role in her saving him, he could say the same. He burned for her. From the time their eyes locked over the river, he'd wanted her. Slowly, he turned, avoiding her eyes. “Emma, I'm...”

She stepped into his space, her finger to his lips once more. “I saved you because I...care about you. I don't know why. I wish I did. I wish I had the answers you seek. However, I do know I would not see you hurt. Not even by me. If you'd rather we part, then...”

He cut her off with a kiss. He jerked her into his arms and tried to devour her lips. She mewled, hands fumbling for purchase, kissing him back with equal fervor. A desperate tangle of lips and tongues and teeth making her feel like she was flying, like she was _wanted_. Abruptly his hands gripped the backs of her thighs and hoisted her up, urging her legs around his trim waste. She felt him, hard and thick, against her even though their clothing. She groaned again, hips moving of their own accord, grinding against him. Any discomfort she felt from their earlier tryst were forgotten in the pleasure that seemed to pulse through her veins.

Killian shuffled them forward until her back hit the wall. “Here we are again,” he mumbled into her skin. “Gods, I want you.”

She arched her neck so he could nibble on her flesh. “Please, please,” she pleaded, fingers shaking as she tried to unclasp the pin holding up his peplos. She needed the feel of his skin on hers, feel his muscles burn and flex under her touch.

“Why can't I resist you? What have the gods done to me?” He was speaking randomly, not expecting an answer. The gods were silent, leaving them to sort out their will for themselves. She gave a particularly urgent roll of her hips and he groaned. “My wanton goddess.”

Emma tossed the loose pin aside and yanked down the wool covering his skin. It bunched around her legs, still wrapped tightly around his hips. She stroked everywhere she could reach as he thrust against her, even through the cloth the hard ridge of his cock rubbed deliciously against her nub. She arched, whimpering, grinding her own hips, hungry for more friction. She did not understand what came over her when he touched her, why she needed him so badly. She did not want it to stop.

“Come for me, goddess,” he growled, biting down on her earlobe. “Then I'll take you to bed and you can ride me until we both are one with the stars.”

Her body obeyed his command, even as she cursed him, sparks seeming to shoot over her skin as she trembled hard in his arms. No matter how much she tried, she could not stop this desire for him. He murmured praise in her ear, nimble fingers unpinning her peplos. As she came down from her high, he carried her just as she was to the pallet. There he unwrapped her body, mouth hot on her skin, licking and tasting her. She tasted like sunlight and ambrosia, hands clawing at him, at the silk that covered the soft pallet. He could worship her for years and still find secrets to unlock.

Need coiled in her belly and she growled, hooking her leg around one of his and flipping them around. She wet her lips in anticipation as she peeled the rough fabric from his body so she could tease him in turn. She was getting bolder with her lips and hands, finding all the places that made him jerk and moan. “Emma, Emma, Emma,” he chanted softly, hips rising off the pallet. “Need you so much.”

She raked her nails sharply down his chest; they were blunt from her training, but they left satisfying red streaks down his torso. He hissed, turned on by her desire to mark him. “You're mine, Spartan.”

He pushed himself up, crashing his mouth to hers, pawing at her breasts. “Then claim me, Princess,” he growled back.

She climbed astride his hips, guiding his lips to her breast. He sucked eagerly, lashing at the straining peak with his wet tongue. She mewled, rocking on top of him, coating him with her arousal. Finally, she could take it no longer, reaching down to guide him to her entrance. Their groans echoed in the sparse room as she took him in, her body stretching around his considerable girth. “Oh yes,” she breathed.

He found her lips, kissing her slowly, thoroughly, his rough soldier's hands sliding over her back. She whimpered, riding him steadily, relishing the slide of him along her walls. He fit perfectly inside her, walls clutching at him every time he withdrew. Her nipples rubbed against his chest, adding to her pleasure, skin tingling.

Killian didn't dare say the words out loud but to him Emma was more beautiful than Aphrodite, more alluring than the famous Helen. She was just discovering her sensuality, her femininity and it excited him beyond reason. He was truly mad for her, quickly becoming her willing slave. She pushed him down and he grunted, a shiver of need rolling up his spine. He was a Spartan, he liked his women feisty and passionate. Emma gave as good as she got and he loved every moment.

Emma rolled her hips, taking him harder and faster, chasing something that was just out of reach. Her back arched, she groaned as his hands trailed up her body, stroking her sensitive places. “Feels so good, Emma. Tight and hot, don't stop.”

She righted herself, covering his hands with hers, twining their fingers as they touched her body. He was learning her, how she liked to be touched, but it was even more erotic when she showed him. Together, they teased her nipples, rubbing, rolling and pinching until she cried out. Killian braced his feet on the pallet and thrust up as she slid down, forcing his cock even deeper within her. “Fuck!”

He grinned ferally, pulling her down against his chest. “Do you like that, Princess? Taking all of my cock? Riding me until your desperate to come? Feels amazing when you come on my cock, Emma. Squeeze me so good.”

Her thighs burned but she pushed through it, her body well trained from long hours of fighting. She found his mouth, kissing him hard, wetly, their skin slapping together. He found just the right angle and she screamed, her climax rocking her to the core, her nerves on fire. Killian rolled them over, still thrusting inside her, groaning as the aftershocks of her high rolled along his length. He buried his face in her neck as he followed at last, shooting his seed deep inside her womb.

Emma panted harshly but did not protest his weight. She stroked his hair, his back. No matter what they did or how they spoke to each other, they found themselves here, as if drawn together by some invisible will. The gods' will as Killian believed? She did not know and it scared her. She spent her life dedicated to Artemis and now it felt like everything she knew had been turned upside down by this one man. This Spartan.

Killian remembered himself, rolling to the side, but taking Emma with him. Her little whine of protest when he slipped from her made him smile to himself. She may not understand what was going on between them anymore than he did, but the way their bodies fit together, craved each other, was undeniable.

* * *

Emma waited until he fell asleep, not wanting to arouse his suspicions. The way she felt about him was terrifying, the longer she spent in his arms, the less she wanted to leave them. They hadn't discussed the argument that led to their latest tryst, for which Emma was thankful. She was afraid she'd revealed too much. Even after he was peacefully sleeping, she spent long minutes drinking in his features; he looked younger like this, almost boyish. It tugged at her heart in a way she did not yet understand.

Before she let her emotions override her judgment, Emma carefully disentangled herself from his hold and slipped from the pallet. She watched him for a long moment, but he remained asleep. Quiet as a cat, she found her peplos and dressed, then enclosed Killian in the red silk. She trusted that he would stay, even if he woke before she returned.

As ordered, the guards were still at the end of the hall. Aurora was gone but Mulan stood there in the brunette's place. The black haired Amazon smothered a smirk when Emma emerged and she wondered just how loud she and Killian had been. “Princess.”

“I would have dinner delivered in a few hours, Mulan. See it done?”

“Yes, Princess.” Emma nodded her thanks and started to leave. She wanted to visit the temple of Hera, see if the goddess could provide any insight to her dilemma. “Princess? Forgive me, but...how is it?”

Emma looked at the woman, nonplussed. Mulan was around her age; as far as Emma knew she had not been Chosen. For Emma, it was such a loaded question though. The sex was fantastic, more intense and satisfying than she could have ever dreamed. But her emotions were all a jumble. In the end, she decided to deflect. “He is a Spartan, Mulan. How do you think he is?” She glanced down the hall. “See that he's not disturbed. Do not allow _anyone_ down this hall, do you understand?”

“Yes, Princess.” Mulan stood up straighter; she was a good soldier, who took her duties seriously. Emma made a note to reward her if her instructions were fulfilled.

Sure now that Killian would be safe, she marched off in the direction of Hera's temple. It was on the far side of the palace, nestled in a pomegranate grove. On her way, a few of her sisters nodded in acknowledgment, whispering behind their hands the moment she passed. Amazons usually did not hold to idle gossip, but Emma giving up her virginity, choosing to participate in the sacred rite seemed to be the exception. She ignored all of it, intent on her mission.

The fresh air soothed her troubled soul; she always felt better away from the palace. She felt most like herself out in the world, training or leading her warriors into battle. Silently, she prayed that Regina lived for many years to come, as Emma was content with her life as it was. Seeing the temple brought her up short, her simple prayer feeling foolish. In a heartbeat, she'd given up her freedom, abdicating her place at the head of the army for at _least_ a year. And that was the bare minimum to conceive a child, allow it to grow inside her, and give birth. Daughters were raised communally, but given Emma's status as royalty, she would be expected to remain close to her daughter for some time until they were certain she would survive.

Her only salvation was in having a son. A son would allow her to send the boy to his father, leaving her free to reassume her place. At least until Regina pressured her to mate again. Emma shuddered, suddenly sick to her stomach at the thought of someone else touching her the way Killian did.

“Why did you do this to me?” she demanded, looking up at the heavens.

Realizing the goddess would not answer a petulant Amazon, she bowed her head as she entered the temple. The statue of the goddess stood tall in the center, Hera seated on her throne, a polos on her head. A lion lay at the goddess's feet, standing guard over her. Emma walked to the water basin and washed her hands, noting the way Killian's scent clung to her skin. It was oddly comforting.

Cleansed, she knelt in front of the statue. “Queen Hera, I come to you for guidance. I, Emma, princess of the Amazons, am but a soldier. But I have...accepted my duty. I have participated in the sacred rite, handed down by you. But why now? Why this man, this Spartan? What am I to do? I don't understand and pray to you for enlightenment.” She slipped a dagger from her girdle and pricked her finger. She allowed a few drops of her blood to fall at the foot of the statue. “I have nothing to give, aside from this. I beseech you to hear my prayer.”

Emma sucked on the small wound, the pain barely registering. She wanted for a few more moments, waiting for a sign, but none came. She must be patient. She slowly rose and backed out of the temple, never turning her back to the goddess whose favor she was seeking. Once clear of the grove, she sheathed her dagger and headed back in the direction of the palace. She'd mentioned to Killian about bathing and she _did_ ache in ways she never had before. She ignored the voice that said she was being a coward, avoiding her Spartan, and changed direction. She looked around, making sure she was alone, then ran, hurrying down the path to her secret spot. Perhaps there she could get some clarity.

Killian rose, his weary body stretching on the soft pallet. Idly he reached for Emma but she was gone, the pallet empty and cold. He frowned, scrubbing his hand over his face. His beard had gotten longer in the hours since the games. Had it truly been less than a day ago? He looked for the sun but he was surrounded by the red silk that surrounded her pallet. He pulled it back to seek the sun. It was low in the sky, the shadows lengthening. Unless he was mistaken this was around the time he and the other captives had been taken for a final cleaning and oiling.

So much had changed since then; it felt like another lifetime. His life before Emma and his life after. He didn't know what the latter would hold, but he missed her. His first instinct was to look for her, but belatedly he remembered that he was bound to her rooms. He cringed at his reaction to her earlier, the terrible things he'd said. She allowed him to have her, he prayed he was forgiven. He hadn't meant it, not when he looked at things with a cooler head. Emma had saved him from certain death, had given him the gift of her body. He felt something for her, something beyond simple gratitude or lust. He suspected she did too, even if she didn't understand it.

Of course, he could be wrong and when she returned, she would send him back to the cells. If she was done with him, he'd rather she just end his life herself, since he would have no reason not to try and escape again. He suspected the Queen would not be so merciful a second time.

Scratching at his beard, he stood, walking to the balcony. It was his favorite place on her suite, the view spectacular. His home in Sparta, when he allowed himself to think about it, was nowhere near this grand. He had a simple home just outside the city, along the river. He'd never admit it, but Sparta was a village compared to Themiscyra. He could see the River Themis in the distance, clear and blue, winding toward the coast. He'd only ever seen it on maps, during his military training.

Unlike the legends, his people were not only interested in fighting and war. A Spartan boy learned to read and write, philosophy and sums. They could challenge any of the Greek city states in pure learning, if they chose. Their women too. As a very young boy, he'd taken lessons with a few girls and they showed just as much aptitude if not more. It was only at the age of seven that boys and girls were separated and military training added to the boys' regimen. Killian had lived in the shadow of his older brother Liam for years but he never minded. Liam was his whole world; they'd proudly marched off to war together when called upon by their king.

War had sobered them both, the long years in front of Troy. Killian had begun to see the futility, even if Liam would never admit it. But now...what would his brother think of him? Held captive by an Amazon? Not just any Amazon, but the princess? Designated the father of her child, provided he could succeed. Liam would probably laugh in his face, give him a good ribbing. After that...who knew.

Killian sighed, leaning over the rail. It was a long drop but he was nimble and quick. He could roll, break his fall. It would be so easy to jump, to leave here. At least try. But just like that day on the battlefield, something held him back. He remembered the wistful sadness in Emma's eyes when she talked about her mother. She'd been left, even if she were too stoic to admit how much it hurt. Regina had clearly not filled that void. Could he? Did he want to? Or would it be better to leave things as they were? They connected in the way that was most pertinent, the sex mind blowingly amazing. Perhaps it would be best to just leave it at that, get her with child and be on his way.

He heard voices and turned. Two serving girls—no older than twelve or thirteen—entered the room carrying trays. One, a plump red head, laid her tray aside and began lighting candles. The other was the same girl who'd delivered the washbasin and salve the night before. He looked down at his wrists; the skin was already healing, the edges of his abrasions turning pink as the skin knitted back together. Killian quietly stepped around the corner, not wishing to startle them.

“Hello.”

The red head jumped, dropping the candle she was lighting. When she saw Killian her eyes went wide and she began trembling from head to foot. “He's not chained!”

The other girl poked her friend roughly in side. “Will you shut up! He's just a man for Hera's sake!”

“But he's supposed to be chained! The law says...”

“You don't pay enough attention, Violet. Inside the Chosen's chamber, it is _her_ discretion. Calm yourself.” The girl looked at Killian, not so subtly giving the once over she'd refrained from the night before. “We were ordered to bring food, Spartan.”

He thought it wiser not to speak again, lest Violet die of fright. But he did not cover himself either. In Sparta nudity wasn't uncommon, especially for men. He nodded his assent and moved back to the pallet to allow them to work in peace. The unnamed Amazon kept sneaking glances at him as they laid out his meal. Normally, he'd have encouraged the attention but he felt oddly disloyal in these circumstances. He just wished the girls gone.

At length, they did, leaving him to his own devices. He was hungry but wondered if he should wait for Emma. He'd enjoyed their meal earlier before they quarreled. He hoped that wherever she'd gone, she was happy.

Emma passed the serving girls on her way to her suite. Mulan nodded at her, confirming that no one aside from the girls had been in her rooms. She felt much more centered after her trip to her secret place. She hoped her absence didn't make things awkward with Killian. She had returned with a new sense of purpose, determined to do her duty and nothing else.

She found her Spartan on the pallet, in silent contemplation. Her breathing hitched, arrested by his beauty. It was effortless, the strength he projected. He was a god among men and he was _hers_.

“Find what you were looking for, love?”

Emma blinked, taken out of her trance. Why could she not control her reaction to him? Not a minute before, she'd been resolved not to crave his touch or his voice or anything else about him. She'd been herself, Emma, a warrior simply doing her duty. One look, one sentence from his lips and her body was throbbing, aching for him. Would she never belong to herself again?

“Did an angry god steal your voice?” He stood. No, she absolutely was not watching the muscles bulge and flex as he moved. He came ever closer, his face going from amused to concerned. “Emma? Are you well?”

She swallowed, her eyes finally finding his. “Apologies I was not here when you woke up. I didn't...expect to be gone so long.”

“It is your prerogative, Princess.”

Almost against her will, her hand came to rest on his chest. “You stayed.”

He nodded, her touch branding him. “I did.”

“You could have run.”

“I gave you my word, Emma. I intend to honor it.”

She stepped closer, feeling the warmth of him. “That means a lot to me, Killian.”

He tenderly cupped the back of her head, fingers weaving into her golden tresses. They were damp underneath. “Did you bathe?”

“Not in the baths.”

He cocked his head. “Where did you go?” Was he so repulsive that she sought solace elsewhere?

Emma let her hand slide down, brought the other to his shoulder. His body was firm and toned; she loved to touch him. “I went to Hera's temple, to...thank her for gifting me with you.”

The corner of his lips quirked up. “Surely you didn't bathe in the temple?”

“No, no. I was...going to come back, but I...” She bit her lip. “There's a place I go, when I need to think or be alone. A bank along the river. It's secluded, no one knows about it.” He nodded, recognizing the trust she was placing in him. She sighed as he gently wrapped his other hand around her hip, closing the distance some more.

“Did you find peace in your special place?”

“I thought I did. But then you're here and you're...” Unable to resist the lure of his body, she brushed her lips over his pec. “You overwhelm me, Killian.”

“Apologies?” She laughed; it was sweet. “In truth, you do the same to me. You are so beautiful, Emma.”

“So what do we do?”

“Who says we need to do anything? Our misunderstandings aside, I'm not...averse to this situation. When I woke up and you were gone, I thought perhaps you'd decided to send me back. That my outburst had mortally offended you.”

“I'm the one who should apologize. I did not explain myself well.”

“And I should not have lost my temper. I can't tell you how grateful I am that you saved my life, love. Whatever your reasons.”

“You're not completely safe yet.”

He rubbed her lower back. “We have time. It's not an onerous chore, I assure you.”

“I don't want it to be a chore, Killian.”

“I'm jesting, love. You are...exquisite. I crave you.”

Emma stood on her toes and pressed her lips to his, surrendering herself to the will of the gods. For as long as she could, she would cherish this. He groaned into her kiss, pulling her even tighter against him. Her fingers slid into his dark hair, nails scratching his scalp. A frisson of desire shot down his spine, his hips thrust against her. He unpinned her peplos, allowing the offending cloth to roll off her body. “Killian?”

They'd used each other well in the hours since the games; he suspected she was a bit sore, even if she were too stubborn to admit it. He kissed her tenderly, picking her up. She squealed but made no protest as he carried her to the pallet once more. He intended to worship her, love her sweetly, and hopefully wash away all the hurt feelings and anxiety of the day. “Relax, love. I've got you.”

Emma nodded her ascent, sighing happily as his lips and rough whiskers skimmed over her heated skin. She didn't know how it was possible to want someone this much, especially after what they'd already shared. Why had her sisters never explained? Perhaps their mates did not love as well as Killian? Elsa had said that her mother was _fond_ of her mates, but was this what she meant? Did they turn her into a puddle of sensation without warning? Emma writhed against the silk, little moans and cries tumbling from her lips as Killian licked every inch of her, stroked her with those rough soldier's hands. She gripped his hair, trying to anchor herself to _something_ as the pleasure ebbed and flowed under her skin, her core wet and aching. He sucked each breast until it was tender, left a trail of wet open mouthed kisses down her belly. She spread her thighs willingly, hoping he would take the hint, but he ignored her, opting to suck a mark into her hip. Him branding her as his only turned her on _more_ , her intimate flesh swollen and slick.

Killian groaned at the sight of her, skin flushed pink, green eyes consumed by black, her nipples wet from his mouth, her sex dripping with arousal. He desperately wanted to bury his cock in her tight sheath and fuck her senseless, but she deserved better. He moved, settling between her thighs, lips caressing the tender skin there. He wanted to hear her beg for him.

“Thank the gods,” Emma whimpered. She thought she might explode with the need to come. Now that she knew what his mouth could do to her she craved more. Still, he teased her, blowing cool air on her aching flesh, stroking her with deft fingers. She smelled heavenly, he could spend hours between her thighs. He licked the length of her with the flat of his tongue and Emma jerked, a low cry on her lips. Her hands found his hair again, holding him right where he was. She was already so aroused that it did not take long until her thighs trembled around his head, but he did not let her come. At the last moment he pulled away, and she cried out in frustration. “Killian!”

“Patience, Princess,” he murmured, kissing her aching nub. He waited until she'd calmed a little before diving in again, flicking her clit with his tongue. He eased two fingers inside her heat, shallowly fucking her. Her walls clenched on them, hips bucking up off the pallet, hungry for more.

“Please, please, please!” she whimpered, no longer in control of her body. It demanded release from this torment, release only Killian could give her.

He chuckled against her, but increased the pace and depth of his fingers, lips latching onto her clit. Emma exploded at last, wave after wave of ecstasy washing over her. Her back bowed off the bed, a wailing cry on her lips, it felt like she'd been touched by the gods themselves. Killian swore she'd never been more beautiful.

When Emma came back to herself, Killian lay beside her, tenderly stroking her skin. She hummed, unconsciously leaning into him. He smiled, tracing her lips with his index finger. She allowed her hands to slide over his torso, moving down until she brushed his swollen cock. He made a strangled sound in his throat, rocking into her touch. “Emma.”

“Why do I want you so much?” she murmured, tongue darting out to wet her lips.

His eyes rolled back in his head as she pulled steadily on his cock. “Love...I won't be able... _fuck_ , to be gentle, if you keep doing that.”

“Maybe I don't want gentle.”

He smoothed her hair back from her face. “But I want to give that to you.” His eyes were a swirl of emotion, lust certainly, but a tenderness she did not expect. Biting her lip, she nodded and released him. Killian kissed her palm, then brought her left leg over his hip. He inched closer to her, pressing kisses to her neck, her breasts. Finally, he found her lips, distracting her with a passionate kiss as he slowly pushed inside her welcoming heat. She groaned into the kiss, cradling his cheeks as they ground together, loving slowly, sweetly. Killian slipped his leg between hers, giving him more leverage, but never increased his pace. Knowing she was sore, he would build her up nice and easy, letting them both revel in the feeling of being one.

Emma's heart raced, so overwhelmed by his gentle touch. They'd been rough and needy, quick and passionate, in their previous couplings, but this felt like the first time all over again, the care he showed with her body dragging her more and more under his spell. She'd never felt more connected to another person, certainly not a man. Was this what was Hera was trying to show her? Was this a sign? She couldn't think, the feel of his cock stroking her into the afterlife. Her high built so slowly, she was hardly aware as they kissed and touched and whispered soft tender words. When it came she keened, body _quivering_ with ecstasy. Killian groaned, the feel of her strangling his cock too much for him. He thrust once, twice, then emptied himself in her, coating her walls with his seed. He was shaking, the intensity of it unlike anything he'd ever felt before. He murmured nonsense, lips kissing her brow tenderly in gratitude.

Emma was so sleepy but hungry. She'd not eaten since their meal that morning. They held each other loosely, even now unwilling to part. A breeze came in through the window and Emma shivered, the sweat still drying on her skin. “Cold, love?”

She nodded. “A little. Mostly hungry?”

He smiled down at her, that dimpled smile that made her heart quicken. “Apologies for delaying our meal.”

She traced the apple of his cheek. “It's okay. That was...”

“I've never felt that,” he said earnestly, understanding what she couldn't say.

“Really?”

“Truly. I would not lie to you, Emma.”

She smiled, believing him. She could see it in his eyes. “Good.”

Reluctantly, they rose, Emma not feeling as sore as she expected. Her swim in the river had eased her body, but Killian had been tender and loving with her. It brought back all those emotions she didn't understand, but what was done, was done. She was in the hands of the gods now, whatever happened.

Instead of eating in the room, they moved the feast out to the balcony. Killian brought pillows and blankets for them, creating a cozy nook for them. Emma resolved to ask for more furniture for her rooms in the morning; if Killian was going to stay with her, then she would need more than the pallet and a couple of stools. The man himself settled himself against the wall, beckoning her to join him. She did, easing between his legs, back to his chest. He kissed her shoulder as she pulled the low table closer, pouring them some wine. They were silent for a long time, enjoying the wine, feeding each other little morsels of the feast. Emma spent a long time staring up at the stars; they seemed to twinkle back at her, giving her a sense of peace.

“Look,” Killian said softly.

Emma cocked a brow at him questioningly, but he just pointed. She gasped when she saw it too, a shooting star. It streaked red and orange across the heavens, casting its glow upon them. A sign? Was it the sign she'd sought from Hera? Did the goddess believe she was on the right path? She was the Queen of Heaven, surely this was her way of answering Emma's prayer. The Spartan was meant for her, Emma believed that now. Hera had shown her the way. A warm feeling swelled in her chest, as Killian gently rubbed her arms. Emma turned her head and cupped his cheek, guiding his lips to hers. He smiled into her kiss, a little confused but welcoming her affection. “Love?”

“Shhh. Just hold me.”

“A command easily obeyed, Princess.”

She nodded but inwardly winced. In the eyes of her people, Killian was a slave. It just didn't seem right to her, but she could not change what she was. She was an Amazon, this was the way of her people. Men were for procreation and nothing more. No matter how she felt (and she still was not sure exactly how she felt) she would have to give him up. He would return to Sparta and she would never see him again. Never feel his touch. His kiss. _Do not think on that now._

“Tell me about Sparta, Killian. How you grew up.”

“There's not much to tell, love.”

“Tell me anyway. Please?”

“Very well.” His Amazon turned to face him, kneeling between his thighs. As he spoke, she carefully examined his bruises and wounds, placing tender kisses to each one. The salve had long since rubbed off and she made him pause his tale so she could fetch it. He was in awe of the care she showed toward him, the subtle change in her. She definitely seemed more at ease with both him and herself. He'd seen the shooting star as a blessing from the gods, perhaps she felt the same? He did not know if Amazons held such things as sacred as the Greeks.

When she was finished, he kissed her in thanks. She sighed, giving herself over to the kiss. It was sweet and loving, their desire sated for the moment. They kissed even as he took her back to bed, drawing the satin around them and shaking out the blanket to cover them. She cuddled into his right side, careful of his healing bruises. Killian continued his tale until her breathing even out, exhaustion finally getting the better of her. He kissed the crown of her head, silently praying that this path would not bring them both to ruin.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Killian tried to ignore the waning moon. Every night, he and Emma would lounge out on the balcony, wrapped up together in silk skin to skin. They spent long hours talking, watching the stars, indulging in their passion. Sometimes they fell asleep out there, surely horrifying the servants when they brought the morning meal. Five days after the games and Killian could almost forget he was a prisoner.

Objectively, he knew his situation could be far worse. He could have been captured by the Trojans, or dead. Dying in battle would have reunited him with his brother in Elysium. Liam had to be there, he was too good of a man. Killian opened up about Liam to Emma, the first time he'd let himself pour out his loss. It was late on the third night, his Princess curled in his arms, almost purring in contentment from their more pleasurable activities. He didn't even know where it came from, but he simply started talking and she listened. She held his hand when his throat closed up, pressed loving kisses to his skin, waiting patiently as he struggled to compose himself. She did not mock him or think him weak for his emotions, something he had not expected. Alone in their suite, she was not an Amazon; she was a loving, kind woman that shone brighter than the sun. He could not tear himself away, even as little reminders of his captivity remained.

His shackles lay tucked away in a corner, never spoken of. However, the reality of their relationship found its way into their sanctuary daily. He could not leave the suite even to relieve himself. Emma had water and cloths brought for them to wash (while it often lead to a happy conclusion for them both, he missed just swimming in the river whenever he wished) and stayed with him as much as she could. He could see it wearing on her as well; neither of them were meant for confined spaces. They were soldiers, accustomed to sleeping under the stars, eating simple fare cooked over a fire, singing soldiers' songs or telling stories to pass the time. He taught her a few from Sparta, his chest swelling with pride when she sang them back to him in a pretty melodious voice.

On the fourth day she surprised him by smuggling a couple of practice swords and shields into her suite. They pushed the furniture aside and rolled up the soft pallet to give them space to spar. Dressed in short chitons, they playfully resumed their encounter on the fields of Troy, running, jumping and fighting for hours. He was impressed by her skill and endurance; it took him several thrashings before he found a weakness in her attacks. Discovery made, he fared much better, actually besting her twice. The second time she did not take it well, marching off in a huff. He started to go after her, but was again brought up short by the sight of the guards at the end of the hall. While she cooled off, he cleaned up at best he could, righting furniture and hiding the battered implements of war. She found him once again on the balcony, and said not a word as she urged him back to bed. There she apologized with her lips and hands, begged him to mark her. It was hot and passionate, yes, but the tenderness in her eyes had him undone.

If this was all he would have, he wanted to leave her knowing he loved her well.

“Killian?”

“Yes, love?”

“What are you thinking?”

He smiled at her innocent question. “I was thinking about my favorite thing.”

“What's that?”

“Is it not obvious?”

She raised her head, lip caught between her teeth. It was a sure sign she was nervous. “Humor me?”

He caressed her cheek. “You, Emma. You are my favorite thing.”

To his surprise, she frowned. “But you're not happy. You're a slave, a captive here.”

He looked away. “That is true. But if I wasn't, we wouldn't be here now. This is the gods' will, Princess.”

“For you to bed me and then leave? For us to never see each other again?”

“Isn't that the way of your people? To use men for your sport then discard us? You are an Amazon, Emma. I am a Spartan. What would you have us do?”

She looked away, more confusion in her eyes. The more she tried not to think about the future, the more it tormented her. The new moon began the next night; she only had three more weeks with her Spartan. What if they conceived a child? If it was a daughter, she could keep a piece of him with her always, but was that enough? She thought she wanted a son so she could go back to her duties at the head of the army, but each day she spent with him left her mind more muddled. She didn't know what she wanted.

“You're not sport to me, Killian. When you touch me, when you're inside me...that's real.” The heartache in her voice called to the same in his own breast. He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off with a swift kiss. “And I love this too, these quiet moments where all you do is hold me, tell me a story. When we are like this, I'm not an Amazon and you're not a Spartan. It's just us. Does that make sense?”

He nodded, kissing her brow. “I understand completely.” He wanted to trust the gods' plan, but it was beginning to feel cruel. To have brought them together, their circumstances in life demanding they part. He coaxed her lips back to his, memorizing their softness, their sweetness for the long nights ahead without her.

Emma agonized for two more days. She wanted to give Killian something, something that could in some small way convey how much he meant to her. She was never very good with her words; she believed actions spoke louder. Killian seemed to notice her distraction and did his best to relieve it, coaxing her back to him with tender affection and passionate coupling.

The third day of the new moon Emma crept from the pallet to let him sleep. She'd come up with a plan. If she hurried, she could be back before he woke and he need not know she was gone. He would likely hate her for what she intended, but she saw no other way. It killed her a little each day, seeing her proud Spartan be reminded of his slavery. He never mentioned it, gave no outward sign. It was all in his eyes. They were brightest when they felt the cool breeze on their naked skin as they lay in the sunlight or under the stars. Or when he soaked her in when he thought she wasn't looking. Like he was trying to imprint her on his memory. His gorgeous blue eyes shined as they gave into their passion; he was always finding new ways to please her. But then there were the other times when she found him lost in thought, shoulders slumped, eyes sad that threatened to rend her heart in two. He was not meant for this, and she was being selfish by keeping him with her.

She slipped on the linen chiton (the one that smelled like him), pinning it in place. It was early, so she shouldn't have trouble slipping away unnoticed. Except from the guards on her room. It was Aurora today; the brunette nodded as Emma passed. She was usually an early riser, enjoying a hour of training before the morning meal. Her schedule had changed dramatically since the games, but she didn't have to explain herself to anyone. She was of the Chosen. If she emerged too often from her chamber, it would have been remarked on. And Emma did not wish to bring anymore attention to her Spartan than was necessary.

“Princess!”

Emma turned, hiding her frown. She had somewhere to be, she did not have time for this. “Yes, Ella?”

The petite blonde smiled. “The Queen sends for you, Princess. Apologies for the early hour, although I did not expect to find you out of your chamber.”

Emma ignored the dig about Killian. “Did she say what she wanted?”

“I am merely her messenger, Princess.”

Emma swallowed her annoyance. “Thank you for the message. I'll attend her immediately.” She changed course and followed the familiar path to the throne room. She found her aunt on the balcony, the view overlooking the city in all its magnificence. She knelt. “My Queen, you sent for me?”

Regina did not turn. “It has been more than a week since I've seen you, Emma.”

“Is that not the way of things? I am to couple with the Spartan often, am I not?”

A hint of a smile teased Regina's lips. _That_ was something she was most curious about. “How is your Spartan? Does he satisfy you? I've heard tales of his people's...endurance.”

“He sleeps, my Queen. But he pleases me.”

“Worn him out, have you?” Regina laughed. “Your mother would be proud.”

“Was that all you wished to know?” The sun began to climb above the trees; Emma didn't have much longer to see to her plan. She hoped Regina's curiosity was sated.

When Regina turned, she held a crystal on a chain. Emma blanched, recognizing it. It was the crystal given by Hera, to determine if the Chosen had conceived. It was placed around their neck at the end of the ritual, glowing gold if the Amazon was successful and blue if not. Failure meant the instant death of the Amazon's mate.

She almost missed Regina's next words as her heart threatened to beat right out of her chest. “Can I not inquire after my niece? This is your first time as a Chosen, it can be quite a life altering experience.”

Emma stood. “I am well, Aunt. As I said, he pleases me...thoroughly.”

Regina's face grew serious. “Make sure that is _all_ he does, Emma. You are young and know not the ways of men. He will try to ensnare you, engage your feelings. He interested only in his own survival. Be concerned with his cock and nothing more.”

Everything inside her rebelled against that. Killian was so much more. He was unlike any man she'd ever known. He put the lie to everything she'd been taught about men. She believed that, whatever Regina said. He was true to her, true to his word, kind and unbearably sweet. He was a warrior, every bit as well trained as she. In her most private thoughts, she imagined them fighting side by side, an unstoppable force. But it could not be. She had to get him out of here, before her people snuffed out his light.

“I will be careful, Aunt. If I have leave to go, I'm sure he will wake soon.” She tried to smile, like she could not wait to have him in her again. Regina nodded her consent and Emma left. It wasn't until she rounded the corner that she paused to think. Something in Regina's speech worried her. Did her aunt already know that Emma's feelings were ensnared? She did not see how; Emma had been careful not to allow anyone see them, aside from servants. But servants gossiped. It was more imperative than ever that she secure Killian's freedom from this place.

As quickly as she could, she resumed her mission, finding the prisoners' entrance and hurrying down the path that led to the woods. She wanted to be sure the way was clear before she tried to smuggle Killian by this road. She followed it as far as she dared; it seemed exactly the same as it had been the last time she used it. If she could get him to the river, then he could be free. She would surely be punished when discovered but it was a risk she was willing to take. If she was already with child, then she would be safe. For a little while at least. Not even Regina would execute her if she was pregnant with an heir.

Emma paused, leaning against a tree. Her hand rested on her belly. Her wishes seemed to coalesce in a heartbeat; her confusion gone. “Hera, patron of motherhood, I beseech you. Let me be with child. Allow Killian's child to live. It is all I will have of him. I can not watch him fade here. I will not. Let him find his home, find a good woman.” Tears stung her eyes, the idea of Killian with another tearing her to pieces. But she had to let him go. “I just want him to live. Please.”

Her knees gave out and she sank to the ground. She had not cried since she was a little girl, but she did now, harsh gut wrenching sobs. In the last week, she had come to feel for him as she did for no other person. She was too afraid to put her feelings into words, but it didn't make them any less painful or real. But it would be far more cruel for him to stay and lose what made him so dear to her. She could not bear it. This was the only way.

She bathed her face in cool water from the nearby spring before returning the way she had come. No one seemed to notice anything amiss, Aurora nodding again as Emma passed. Killian was still asleep; her heart thudded at the sight of him, so peaceful in her bed. She slipped off the chiton and rejoined him, smiling as he cuddled closer.

“Where'd you go?” he mumbled groggily.

“To see about our meals,” she lied. “I was hungry for something new.”

“Hmm, I know what I'm hungry for.” He slipped his leg between hers, pulling her closer. Lazy kisses brushed her skin, nearly breaking her resolve. A low moan caught in her throat, her fingers itched to touch him. He set her alight so easily, it was breathtaking.

“It's early,” she protested weakly.

“The servants won't be here for a while yet.” His scruff scratched at her skin, driving her crazy. “And I missed you.”

She grabbed the back of his head and fused her lips to his. He responded in kind, the kiss rapidly getting heated and sloppy. It was terribly selfish of her but their time was even more limited than Killian knew. She pushed him onto his back, hungrily devouring his lips. He grunted but held her tight, his hands all over her. She mewled, wetness gathering between her thighs.

“Such a wild thing,” he murmured, squeezing her ass. “Love how you need me.”

She ground her sex against his leg, eager for friction to ease the ache building within her. He had no idea who true those words were. She cut him off with another kiss, then scooted up so he could suck and tease her breasts. She moaned and arched as he mouthed her nipples just the way she liked. “Oh yes, Killian.”

The hand that was not fondling her breast, he eased between her thighs. “Fuck, you're wet. Did you miss me, love?” He flicked the hard nub with his finger while his tongue lashed at her nipple. Emma cried out, the dual stimulation so, so good. He made her come like that, hands and mouth, never once penetrating her. She could hardly breathe, hardly think and he was already rolling her onto her back. Shoving some pillows under her ass, she watched in awe as he feasted on her flesh, lapping up the remnants of her first climax and tonguing her a second. He growled against her skin, telling her how good she tasted, how responsive she was, how he couldn't wait to ride her to oblivion. Her second high stole her reason, every coherent thought flying from her mind.

Killian watched her as she calmed, her pretty green eyes closed in bliss, lips parted as she panted for air. He knew her well enough to know there was something she wasn't telling him, but he hoped she'd confide in him on her own. Until then, he would happily satisfy her needs. He left a trail of tender kisses up her belly; he knew it was possible that she was already carrying his child. His Princess's belly swollen and round, his child growing inside her, the image made his cock throb with need. There would be no mistaking who'd gotten her with child, forever marking her as his. She was his, every bit as much as he was hers.

“Emma?”

“Hmm?” Her eyes fluttered open to find him hovering over her, nestled between her thighs. A glance lower down showed his thick swollen cock lightly rocking against her sensitive flesh. “Ooooh.”

“Can you take more?” he asked, kissing the secret spot below her ear. “Want you so much.”

“Then take me, Spartan.” She arched as he entered her, taking him all the way to the hilt. Nothing would ever feel this good again, Killian moving inside her, slowing stroking her to madness. She hitched her legs around his back, dragged his lips to hers. She kissed him thoroughly, hips rising to meet his. “Mine.”

“Yours,” he echoed, circling his hips. He ground against her, pubic bone rubbing her clit, making her see stars. “Always.”

Emma bit her lip, then kissed him again so he would not see the emotion in her eyes. She yelped as his arms slipped around her, picking her up, rising up until Emma rested in his lap. He sucked on her neck, palmed a breast with one hand while the other held her steady as she rode him. He murmured dirty things in her ear, winding her tighter and tighter until she was right on edge. “Touch yourself, let me see you, love.”

They'd played this game before, one night he splayed her out on the chaise and quietly asked if she would pleasure herself for him. She was embarrassed at first, but she trusted him. Seeing the lust burning in his gaze had been worth it. Now she didn't hesitate, fingers quickly finding her swollen nub. A handful of strokes and she screamed her orgasm, holding on by a thread as he slammed into her again and again and again, coming with a cry of her name. His whole body trembled, utterly in awe of his Amazon.

The silk of the pallet was drenched in sweat but they paid it no mind as they sank into it. Killian tugged the blanket up over them, curling behind her. Emma hummed sleepily, her Spartan wearing her out again. How did he wring so much pleasure from her body? How did he make her feel so cherished? She tucked his arm under her breast, his hand resting over her heart. “Hmmm.”

“Sleepy now, Princess?”

“Mmhmm.” She could enjoy the warmth of his arms for a little while longer.

* * *

“Is something the matter, love?” Killian asked, sounding a little breathless as he slashed with the wooden sword.

“Don't be silly.” She spun and swung, trying to catch him off balance. Killian was a great swordsman—for a Greek. However, he tended to leave his flank open.

He caught her training blade with his, shoving back with all his might. “You've been distracted ever since this morning,” he said though gritted teeth. “Talk to me.”

“Too busy...fighting you.” She untangled their blades and rained blows on him, forcing him to block with the shield and give ground. With the wall approaching, he managed to spin out of the way, leaving the wood to thud against the stone while his tapped her bottom. She screeched in frustration, instantly turning to attack. Killian tossed aside his sword and shield, determined to get her to talk.

“You still don't trust me, do you, Princess?”

That cut her to the quick. Of course she trusted him. She'd confided things to him that she'd never told anyone. How much it hurt when her mother died. How terrified she'd been at her first battle, at the first glimpse of broken bloody flesh. How'd she'd thrown up the moment she was alone. How alone she felt amongst her own people, even those meant to be dearest friends. He knew all of her secrets, all save one. How she felt about him. There, she was mute. For saying it would make it real and it could not be. They could not be.

“After everything you still think that?”

He walked up to her, gingerly taking the wooden sword and shield. “You're holding something back, I can see it in your eyes.”

She looked away, afraid of what he could see. He must not know her plan until the last moment, so he couldn't fight her. Especially not where people could hear. Regina reminded her that no matter how much she wished it, they were not truly alone. Still, she could give him a half truth. “You're right. I did slip away with a purpose.”

“A good one, I hope?” He could not bear to see her so torn, it tugged painfully at his heart.

“I know you hate it here,” she began, covering his mouth with her hand as he opened it to protest. “You, my Spartan, are not meant to be cooped up like this.” Her eyes softened and he relaxed. She cupped his jaw. “I want to share something with you, something sacred to me.”

His brow knitted in confusion. “Emma, you've given me so much already. The honor of being the first to touch you.” His hand trailed lovingly down her arm. “You saved me. I can ask no more of you than that.”

“Not even a chance to see beyond the palace? To feel the grass under your feet? To swim with me in the river?” His eyes widened, too stunned to speak. She leaned up to kiss him. “I think I've found a way to smuggle us out of the palace. Just for one night, we'd have to return before dawn.” She would return, he would not. She forced herself to stay calm, to betray nothing.

“How?” He was utterly overwhelmed with this gift.

“There is a path. I've traveled it many times.” She frowned. “We would have to play act. And you would have to wear the chains. Just until we were free of the palace. Because I _do_ trust you, Killian.”

“You would do all this for me? Risk so much?”

She drew his strong arms around her and hugged him close. “This is killing you,” she whispered honestly. “Being trapped here. And what hurts you...hurts me.” It was the most she could say.

“Thank you,” he said earnestly. He thought he'd done a decent job of hiding it, but his princess knew him too well now. As long as he was with her, it was not so oppressive. He'd meant it when he said that he would stay. For her. For the child they were trying to create. However, he could not deny that a piece of his heart yearned for freedom. For home. Only he imagined Emma in Sparta, something that could never be.

During the evening meal, Emma explained her plan. Once the new moon had risen, she would replace his shackles and pretend to be banishing him to the cells for displeasing her. However, rather than turn right toward the cells, they would turn left and out Emma's hidden path. As soon as they were under the cover of the woods, she would unchain him so they could hurry to the river without being seen. Once there they would have all night to swim and enjoy themselves.

“I hate seeing you in these,” she said softly, locking the manacles around his wrists. They'd healed nicely, no longer red and abraded.

“They're not so bad,” he murmured, tipping her chin up and brushing his lips with hers. “In a few minutes they'll be off again.”

“Ignore anything I say. You could in no way displease me. You're _my_ Spartan.”

He smiled. “As you say, my Princess.”

Chains secured, Emma donned her silver chiton. It would be less visible in the dim light of the new moon. She wrapped her fingers around the chain between his wrists and led him from her suite.

“Trouble, Princess?”

Emma scowled, jerking on Killian's chain. “I can handle it, Aurora. I'm taking this filth to the cells. I can't stand the sight of him.”

“I can do it for you.”

“No, he needs to understand who is the mistress here.” She glared at Killian and tugged roughly. “Come, Spartan. Perhaps a night in the dungeon will teach you some obedience.”

Killian pretended to struggle a little against her hold, but followed her. They passed a few more Amazons, nearly all of them gaping as they passed. What could the Spartan have done to earn Emma's wrath? The palace was abuzz at round after round of their coupling, neither making any effort to be quiet. It was driving some of the younger ones, especially those just discovering their bodies, wild with jealousy. Emma ignored all, her head held high as she maneuvered them toward the prisoners' entrance.

“Emma!”

Of all the times for her friend to interrupt! Emma had no choice but to turn, jerking Killian along with her. She was surprised to see Elsa in a similar fashion, her hand wrapped possessively around her mate's chains. Emma noticed the look of recognition pass between the two men, something that went beyond having faced each other in the games. “Venturing from your chamber too, Emma?”

She nodded. “Only to take this one to the cells. He's grown impertinent.”

Elsa looked sympathetic. “Pity. I was going to ask if you wanted to join us in the baths. The Queen has given permission.”

“For a private bath? With your mate?”

Elsa nodded, looking giddy. “I've always wanted to. They say it adds to the pleasure, you know.”

Emma fought to keep her face impassive. “This one has earned no such reward. I trust you're faring better with yours?”

Elsa patted his arm fondly. “Very pleased, I have to say.” She leaned closer. “I do hope he succeeds, I'd hate to see him die.”

Emma felt Killian stiffen, but could not offer him any comfort. “Let us pray to Hera then.”

“Oh, I do. Daily.” Elsa winked and straightened. “I also pray that your Spartan learns his lesson.”

“As do I.” With that the friends parted, Emma feeling slightly queasy. It was obvious that Elsa did not see her mate as anything more than a means to an end. Part of her understood; it was how Amazons were taught. Men were solely for the begetting of more of her kind. Amazons were a proud race, needed no men to function as a people. They were feared by their enemies and respected by their allies as warriors. Emma herself had never questioned that until she met Killian. He was proving to be the exception to the rule and she needed to see him far from here.

Killian could almost feel Emma's distress, but he could do nothing to help her. They were still in the palace, where he was nothing more than a slave. He was still in a state of shock from seeing David for the first time since the games. Physically, he appeared well, well fed, reasonably well rested. That last might be an illusion for his Amazon, who at least was pleased with him. Hearing the white haired Amazon speak so casually of David's life both infuriated him and made him even more thankful that Emma was his.

He followed her, taking in the stiff set of her shoulders, the frown on her lips. He had no idea where they were until low rumblings of men speaking reached his ears. They must be near the cells. However, just as Emma said, they turned left instead of right, finding a staircase that took them down and out of the palace. Killian breathed deeply the moment they were out of doors, trying to soak in the free air. Emma shook her head in warning and he nodded, following her lead and creeping through the shadows. The new moon meant only stars lit the way, which was poor light indeed. Emma seemed to know exactly where she was going and the treeline came into view. They had to dash the last ten or so cubits in the open; Killian sensed her urgency as they ran. A dozen steps into the forest and she pushed him against a tree, kissing him deeply, swallowing his surprised groan.

“We made it,” she breathed, leaning her forehead on his.

“Only out of the palace,” he said softly. “But thank you.”

She couldn't see his face properly in the dark, but kissed him again anyway. Then she retrieved her key to unchain him. She stashed the manacles in some brush; she wouldn't need them anymore. When she returned, she fumbled for his hand, silently cursing the blackness. “Come. It's this way.”

He squeezed her fingers, honored by her affection. There were things he wanted to say, but his voice would not come. She was taking such a risk for him, possibly endangering her life, to give him a few hours of freedom. But this was neither the time nor the place. They were too close to the palace and they needed their wits about them to navigate the path in the dark. His training meant he was not unduly bothered by the lack of shoes or clothing, still he envied Emma her chiton and sandals. Just another sign that he was a slave.

The woods began to thin, stars could be seen through the branches. Emma's steps increased their pace and Killian could sense her excitement. They broke through the treeline and into a small clearing...at the top of a cliff? “Emma, what is this place?”

She seemed to glow in the starlight. “This is my place, Killian. It's not as high as it looks.” She smiled and tugged him toward the edge, both of them leaning over. The drop was only about ten cubits, leading to the placid river below. “There's also a path that leads to the water, we can go swimming if you want.”

“Perhaps later? I think I want to simply soak it in at the moment.”

She smiled, stepping into his arms. “It's much prettier in the daylight, especially when the flowers are in bloom.”

Killian smiled down at her, tenderly touching her cheek. “I can't tell you how honored I am that you brought me here.”

She stood on her toes and kissed him. “Apologies for Elsa. I did not expect to meet her in the hall. She is my dearest friend, but she is very much an Amazon.”

“Emma, I do not hold the ways of your people against you. And I would not change you, my Amazonian princess.”

“But you know him. Her mate. He's not just the man you defeated in the games, is he?”

Killian sighed. “He's my friend. He took command of the men closest to him in the chaos of battle at Troy. He was my commander when we were captured. A Myceanean called David.”

“Elsa is a kind person, I'm sure she treats him well.”

“Well for a slave, you mean?”

Emma averted her eyes. “Yes. But perhaps we can pray for a good outcome?”

Killian nodded, not waiting to quarrel with her. She could not change the ways of her people, certainly not on a whim. He reached for her pin. “Come, I would not have us quarrel.”

“Trying to bed me already, Spartan?”

“This cloth is our only place to relax, love. I would use it as a blanket and hold you in my arms, free of prying eyes or ears.”

Emma thanked the gods for the darkness; it would be much easier for him not suspect her until the last moment. She wanted to memorize this night before she let him go. He unpinned the chiton and spread it on the ground. Emma rolled her eyes as he stretched out his lean frame, but felt the tug in her belly. She would have him once more before the night was through, let the imprint of him on her body linger for days. But not yet.

She watched as he laid on the ground, made soft by the thick grass. Killian ran his fingers through it and Emma joined him, pressing herself against his back. “Does it feel different?”

“Grass?”

She chuckled. “Grass might be different in Sparta?”

He turned his head, stealing a kiss from her lips. “Grass is grass. I grew up near the river. A place not unlike this.”

She moved so he could settle on his back, his left arm pulling her close. “I love the water,” she confessed. “I think that's why I come here. It soothes me.”

He did not speak, for he understood. It was one of the things he missed the most about his home, the cool peace of the river. Would he ever see his home again? Did it matter? Without Emma or his brother, it would feel empty. He had no other family. Of course, it would be his duty to take a wife and sire sons for Sparta, but the only child he wanted was with Emma. He pictured a lass with dark curls and green eyes, as fierce and beautiful as her mother. Unconsciously, his hand rested on her belly, wondering if such a thing had already come to pass. A child he would never see or know.

Emma felt the melancholy in him, the sadness. What was he thinking about? She didn't dare ask for fear of revealing her own feelings. She offered what comfort she could, brushing tender loving kisses to his skin. He sighed and pulled her fully on top of him, wanting to feel her against him. Emma smiled down at him and plied him with slow lazy kisses, making their skin tingle and their toes curl.

Killian skimmed his fingers along the curve of her spine. “Ready to go swimming, love?”

She grinned down at him. “Yes.”

Emma helped him stand, giving him a once over before tugging him by the hand toward the footpath. Someone must have found this place years ago, for the path was well worn. She had never seen anyone; perhaps it was one of her ancestors? She would likely never know. The sound of the river got closer as they descended, letting her know how close they were in the dark. The path stopped right at the bank, a little stone outcropping. She was surprised when Killian stopped them, pulling her into his arms. He kissed her hard, then scooped her up and dropped her in the river! She screamed and came up spluttering, just in time for him to join her with a splash as he dove in.

“Killian!”

He paddled to the surface, grinning from ear to ear. “I couldn't resist, Princess.”

She scowled, splashing him like a child. “It's not funny.”

He just laughed and swam over to her. “Apologies.” Brushing her wet hair away from her face, he offered a kiss in atonement. “Am I forgiven?”

She smiled mischievously and jumped, hands flying to his head and dunking him. She giggled and swam off, hoping he'd chase her. He snarled when he came up, but did so, water streaming down his face. They chased each other across the river, drifting down with the current; Emma hadn't had such fun since she was a girl. However, Killian was a very good swimmer and very patient; his last attack caught her completely by surprise. He held his breath as long as he could, sneaking up behind her. He shot straight out of the water and captured her in his strong arms, holding her so tight she could not wiggle free. “Do you surrender, Amazon?”

Emma struggled and kicked but quickly gave up. In truth, she wanted to be caught, wanted him to hold her. “You expect me to surrender to a Spartan?”

He bent his head, licking droplets of water from her neck. “As I have surrendered to you,” he said softly.

Her heart clenched and she turned her head, finding his lips. This kiss was hungry and desperate, hands sliding over wet skin. Killian groaned, spinning her and coaxing her legs around his waist. He kicked them closer to the bank so he could stand up. Emma felt him pin her to the soft earth, mouth devouring hers. She rolled her hips against his, heat building low in her belly. “Need you, Killian.”

“Here?”

“Take me back?” Back to their blanket where they could spend the time touching and exploring to their hearts' content. He kissed her hard then did as she asked, carrying them out of the river and back to the makeshift blanket. Emma surprised him by pushing him on his back, then straddling his legs. She bent over him, starting at his lips then working her way down, lips and tongue licking the water from his body. He was perfect, toned, strong, but lean, body trembling as she worshipped him. This was her last chance and she intended to enjoy it.

“Emma...love...gods,” he breathed, mesmerized by her. She played with his nipples, licking and biting them until he was bucking under her. She moved lower, still teasing him with her mouth. He was hard against her belly, the heat rolling off him. She smiled up at him, hands squeezing his hips.

“Hmm, hard for me already, Spartan?”

“Always,” he panted. “I always want you, Princess.”

She sat up and took him into her hand, stroking firmly. Her nub throbbed in response, eager to have him as well. However, it would not do to have this over too quickly. She loved when he put his mouth on her...would he enjoy the same? Emma moved, laying flat on her belly. Deftly, she kissed the V of his hip, settling her head over him. Not looking at him, she stuck out her tongue and licked the length of his cock.

“ _Emma.”_

His strangled whisper gave her pause. “Do I do something wrong?”

“No, _no_. I just...you don't have to.”

“But I want to taste you. Like you do me.”

“Fuck, you're amazing.” He nodded at her, encouraging her to continue. She smiled as he brushed her hair back. “I want to see this.” Emma nodded and bent again, lapping at him. He groaned, which she assumed meant she was doing it right. She listened carefully, allowing his sounds to guide her. Sometimes he gave her a tender instruction and she flushed as she obeyed. Killian wasn't idle, his hand sliding over her body. Emma moved up on her knees; he found her slickness and stroked her in time with laps of her tongue. “Emma, love...take me in? Please? Wish to feel your mouth around me.”

She inhaled sharply, his fingers merciless. Still, she nodded, gripping him in her hand. Opening her mouth, she guided him past her lips, trying to focus on his pleasure rather than the odd sensation of him in her mouth. She bobbed slowly, gradually getting the hang of it, again letting Killian guide her. Her tongue swirled and licked, gaining confidence with every moan and groan from his lips. Even then, he was winding her up, two fingers sliding in and out of her. She sometimes faltered, her body having a will of its own.

“You're dripping,” Killian murmured. “Soaking my fingers as you suck my cock. Does this excite you, Princess?”

She moaned around him, losing her rhythm. In wanting to please him, he'd found a way to drive her insane with desire. She released him, biting her lip. “Killian, fuck.”

“Such a sweet mouth, love. So kind of you. But I want to be in this tight cunt.” He didn't stop, his thumb now teasing her swollen nub. “You want me inside you, don't you, Emma?”

“Gods yes.”

“Stay there.” Killian extracted himself from under her and knelt behind her. He kissed the small of her back, fondled the soft globes of her ass. “This will feel so good, love.” He lined himself up and pushed in, easing her knees a little wider apart. Emma gasped, stunned at how big he felt in her now. He'd never taken her from behind, always wanting to see her face as he fucked her. He knew she would enjoy this though. “Ugh, fucking incredible like this, Emma.”

She balled her fists, rocking back onto him instinctively. They'd had enough sex that she thought she knew what she liked but this was so different. Different but good. “Killian...don't stop. _Gods.”_

He bent, kissing her spine. “Never, my love.” He grabbed her hips, snapping his more forcefully into her, earning him a low cry of ecstasy. She was stretched perfectly around his girth; he watched as he sank into her welcoming heat over and over and over. “Touch yourself,” he bit out. “Come on my cock, Princess.”

She mewled, dropping to her elbow so she could reach back. The first touch had her shuddering, a handful more and she spasmed, the climax rippling through her. Killian grunted, rocking through it, not ready to follow just yet. Before her body could collapse, he withdrew, easing her on her side. Killian straddled her right leg, resting the left over his hip as he took her, bending down to kiss her breathless. Emma arched and moaned, clutching at him. He was a god, cock stroking her in a whole new way, making her beg for more.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered in her ear. “My Princess.”

“Yes, yes...yours,” she whimpered, hands skimming down his back. She cupped his ass in her hands, squeezing, urging him to greater heights. “Need to feel you, Killian. Please!”

He grunted, hips stuttering, but did as she asked. He braced himself above her, hips snapping hard and rough, just the way she wanted. She cried out in approval, arching under him. Emma found his eyes in the dim starlight, locking, stunned by the emotions she saw there. He was entirely naked before her, naked in a way he'd never been before and that was when she knew.

He loved her.

She felt her heart stutter in her chest, the weight of his gaze both suffocating and life giving. Her second climax stole her breath, her whole body seizing as white hot fire licked at her veins. Killian groaned, feeling her squeeze him so tight, her warmth coaxing him to follow. He let go, her name a prayer on his lips as he filled her with his seed. He was shaking, arms struggling to hold him up and he tried to roll but Emma was having none of it. She laid back, pulling him down on top of her, holding him to her chest. With his face buried in her neck, he could not see her tears.

He loved her. Her Spartan loved her. She wanted to rejoice, bask in his love, but she'd already resolved to let him go. She needed to let him go, keeping him would only destroy them both. Amazons did not—could not—love.

Killian rolled them on their sides, feeling sleepy and sated. Emma curled up in his arms and he smiled to himself. They would nap briefly then go back to the palace. He wanted to enjoy these last few hours of freedom.

Emma was in agony. Why did he have to love her? Wasn't it hard enough to give him up? Why would the gods do this to her? Why would Hera give them her blessing? It didn't make sense. Emotion clawed at her throat, closing it up, making it hard for her to breathe. She struggled, trying to hide from him, but she couldn't _breathe_ , she couldn't _think_ and she pushed away roughly, choking on a cry.

Killian was up in a flash. “Emma, Emma, what is wrong? Did I hurt you?” Bent double, she could not stop sobbing and it was scaring him. His Emma was so strong; it shredded him, seeing her so distraught. “Love, say something.”

He tried to touch her but she shied away. Emma curled in on herself, cursing her weakness. Do it now, before it could hurt any more! Gathering her courage, she pushed herself up, walking away from him.

“Emma, I don't understand,” Killian said, his voice breaking. “I could never forgive myself if I hurt you.”

She breathed deeply, trying to regain her voice. “You didn't,” she half whispered, half choked.

Killian stood too. “Then what? What is making you cry, love?”

“You!” she screeched.

“But...”

Overwhelmed with anger and shame for her lack of control, she rushed him, fists pummeling his chest. She knocked them both to the ground, Emma still swinging, Killian mostly letting her, only preventing her from hurting herself. He would endure a thousand hits if she wished it. At length, her anger died and she collapsed, weeping into his chest.

He waited until she stilled, until the storm passed, before speaking again. “Emma, can you tell me what I've done? I will make it right, whatever it is. I swear to you.”

“You can't, Killian. You can't fix this.”

“This is killing me,” he choked. “Seeing you upset is killing me.”

“You said it yourself, I'm an Amazon. You're a Spartan.” She looked away, unable to meet his eyes. “I didn't bring you here for a single night of freedom.”

“What have you done?”

The sharpness in his tone sliced through her but perhaps it was better this way. “From here, the river flows to the sea. There you can find a ship and get away. Far away from here. You can be free.”

He stared at her, stunned as if struck by Zeus's own lightening. “You're...setting me free?”

“You think I don't see it, but I do. I meant what I said before. You're not meant to be locked away, Killian. I can't watch you turn into a shell, I can't watch you die. I won't.”

But even as she spoke, he knew he couldn't leave her. Not now. Now when he loved her more than his own life. “No.”

Emma scowled and jerked out of his arms. Of course he'd be contrary, the stubborn Spartan. “Killian, _go_. There's only a few hours left until sunrise! You must be far away from here by then!”

“And what happens then? What happens when your Queen realizes you set me free? She'll kill you, Emma!”

“Not if I'm with child. She wants an heir, Killian. I'll be perfectly safe.”

“But you don't _know_ you're with child! And even if you were, she'd kill you as soon as the babe is born, leaving our child with a mother _or_ father! I won't do it, Emma. I won't abandon you!”

“You don't have a choice, Killian! This is the only way for you to live, don't you see that?”

His face hardened. “You said I always had a choice, Emma. When it came to us. You swore on the River Styx!”

She crumpled, her throat raw from shouting and crying. “I can't let you die,” she hiccuped. “I can't be selfish, Killian. Please go. You'll find someone. A woman. In Sparta. She'll give you a family. Please.”

Killian knelt beside her, touched at her concern for him. “Emma, why do you want me to go? Why does this hurt you so?”

Was he an idiot? She scowled. “I told you. I won't let you die. If you stay here, you'll die, Killian. Somehow. Maybe not literally, but this ritual will break you. I can't let that happen.”

“Do you think so little of me?”

“No! Of course not! But I don't want you to be a slave!”

“I'm not leaving you, Emma. That is my choice.”

She ground her teeth in frustration. “Why can't you do this for me?”

“Because I love you. And I think you love me.”

Her lip trembled. “I...I _can't_. I can't love you.” But she did. Sweet Hera, she _did_ love him. She loved him more than anything in this life. Tears rolling down her cheeks, she sank into his warm loving embrace. “Why did the gods do this to us?”

He kissed the crown of her head. “I don't know, love. There are no answers, only trust. If we trust in the gods, they'll show us the way.”

“The way to _what_?” she demanded. “If I'm not with child by the next moon, you will die, Killian. And even if I am, you'll be banished! We'll never see each other again!”

“I'd never ask you to leave your people for me, Emma. Just knowing you and our child live, that's enough.” It nearly destroyed him to say it, but he loved her because she was an Amazon. Because she was strong. If that meant he had to give her up when the time came, he would.

“But that's not enough for _me!_ ” Not loving him as she did. Before she knew, it was easier to let him go, let him live, have a family with someone else. This was a fresh kind of hell.

It soothed his aching heart to hear those words. Dreams he'd fought not to dream suddenly felt possible. A place of their own, far from their warring peoples. Children. Fighting side by side, growing old together. If it was within his power, he wanted to give it to her. “Then we pray for guidance,” he said quietly. “We beseech the gods to intercede. We'll find a way, my love.”

Emma envied his faith. She respected the gods, trusted them. But ever since her mother's death she had very little faith. This was the first time she'd felt compelled to pray for anything. She still didn't see a way out for them, but for now, she trusted in Killian. If they did not find a solution by the next moon, she'd _force_ him to see sense, oath or not.

“I do love you,” she whispered. Regardless of what else transpired in the future, he needed to know that. “I love you so much, Killian.”

“Then Aphrodite has truly blessed me.” He tipped her tear stained face up and kissed her. She clutched at him, returning his kiss, the weight of almost losing him settling over her like a shroud. He laid them back on the blanket, holding her close, basking in her kisses. He was so touched by her desire to set him free, even if he could not accept. Tearing himself from her would kill him just as surely as remaining by her side. Staying in Themiscyra gave them a chance to plead for intercession. He could not imagine that Emma was the first Amazon to fall in love. Why was it such a crime? Why should they be punished for loving one another? He could not understand it.

A little while later, they went swimming again, cleansing Emma's tears. He did not know if they could risk coming back to this place, and he wished to wash away the pain they'd gone through. They even coupled again, slow and tender, whispering their love for each other. It was bittersweet but Killian would not change anything about this night. It was one he would always cherish, for as long as he lived.

“We can not speak of this,” she said, her head on his chest. “When we return.”

“Then how are we to beseech the gods?” Did she really think he would not tell her of his love for days on end? She deserved to be told every hour of every day.

She shoved at his shoulder. “I'm serious, Killian. It's too dangerous.”

“Why is it so wrong that I should love you?”

She kissed the corner of his lips. “I don't think it's wrong. I can't without believing myself equally accursed. But the palace has eyes and ears. Just this morning, Regina sent for me, to see how you pleased me.”

He grinned cheekily. “And what accounting did you give her?”

She rolled her eyes. “One that would not make her suspicious! You'd think you had no sense, Spartan.”

“This Spartan has fallen in love with an Amazon, Princess. I must have taken leave of my senses.”

She could not stop the happy laughter. He loved her. He _loved_ her. “At least I am in good company.”

He laughed and flipped them, hovering over her with an adoring gaze. “I know the path ahead will be difficult, love. But I would rather be here with you now, knowing I have your love, than anywhere else in the world.”

She cupped his whiskered cheek, drawing his lips to hers. “I still think we will need to be careful. No speaking of our feelings when anyone is about. No sleeping on the balcony.”

He frowned, but nodded in agreement. “Still, I don't think we should change too much, love. That, too, would cause gossip.”

She scowled, but knew he was right. It would be a fine line to walk. “Especially since most of the palace seems to know our doings.”

“You are rather loud, Princess.”

She smacked his bicep. “Is it my fault that my Spartan is very...skilled?” She didn't want to examine that too closely, not wishing to dwell on any other lovers he may have had.

He did not miss the flash of jealousy in her face. “No one compares to you, Emma. I promise you.”

“Don't lie, Killian.”

“I am not. From the moment I laid eyes on you, I could not get you out of my head. Endless visions and dreams of us together, bodies entwined, my name on your lips. And you are the only woman I've loved.”

She saw the truth in his eyes. Still, she should warn him. “Regina said something today. That men were false, than you would try to play on my feelings to ensure your own survival.”

He went very still. “Do you believe that of me?”

“No. I didn't then and I don't now. I _offered_ you freedom, Killian. And still you want to stay with me.”

“Emma, I...I appreciate what you tried to offer, I do. And I do want to be free. But I want you more. If I leave this place a free man, I want us to be together.”

“Together as in...forever?”

“Is there another kind?”

“We've known each other for so brief a time...”

“That may be, but you know things about me I've never told a single soul. Including my brother. I was closer to him than any man living, but I still could not entrust him with all my secrets.”

Tears stung her eyes, but they were happy tears. “I will keep your secrets, I promise.”

“As I shall keep yours.”

The hour was waning; they needed to get back to the palace. Both were reluctant to leave the meadow, so much had changed in their short time there. It was wonderful and terrifying all at once. Killian helped Emma replace her chiton, pinning in place. They held hands all the way back to the place in the forest where Emma had left the manacles; she had to hunt for them for a tense moment, not recalling where she had put them. Carefully, she clicked them back into place. The palace was silent as a tomb when they approached; nearly everyone was asleep. Entering the way they had come, they kept to the shadows, taking advantage of the last hour of near total blackness. They were not challenged until reaching Emma's corridor.

“Who goes there?”

It was difficult to tell in the dark but Emma thought it was Rapunzel. “Emma, princess of the Amazons, returning to my chamber.”

Rapunzel lowered her spear. “Apologies, Princess. I did not know you were still out.”

“I was chastising my mate, but all is well again.” It was frightening just how close that was to the truth.

“Again, apologies. Please, go ahead.” Rapunzel stepped out of the way and let them pass. Emma made a point of allowing Killian's chains to clink so that Rapunzel would not question them further. The young guard did not and they made it to her suite unscathed.

Again, they celebrated with a kiss, Killian pinning her to the wall. “I had no idea you were so good at subterfuge, love.”

She smiled. “You were the one who compared me to Athena. Does she not excel at cunning?”

“Indeed she does. One of the reasons she is revered in Sparta.”

That surprised her. “I thought your people would be much more enamored with Ares.”

“Ares represents the blood and chaos of war, Emma. Athena is concerned with _winning_. And Sparta never loses.”

“And yet you were captured?”

He held out his wrists and Emma removed his shackles, returning them to their corner. “I was but one Spartan in a hodgepodge of Greeks. Not even I can win a war alone.”

“I can think of one.”

He plucked the pin and let the linen fall to the floor, then he took her hand and guided her to the pallet. “Should I guess?”

She huffed and lay beside him, resting her head on his chest once more. “Athena is respected here as well. She has a well appointed temple. Perhaps we could pray to her?”

“As patron goddess of Sparta, I'm sure she would answer.”

“Really?”

“Don't sound so surprised, Princess. Soldiering isn't all we do in Sparta.”

“I think...I'd like to see your home one day, Killian.” She drew his hand over her belly. “Our child should know where they come from. My mother never spoke of my father, but I always wondered who he was. I never got the chance to ask her.”

“I would like to know more about the history of your people as well. See what matches the stories.”

She laughed. “Not much, I imagine. Amazons only allow outsiders during the ritual, lest we become corrupted by man's world.”

“Have I corrupted you, Emma?”

She considered that. Now that they were back in her bed, exhaustion began to creep up on her. It had been a very long and stressful day. “Yes and no? You remind me of things I've not thought of in years. It never occurred to me to question how I was raised or the ways of my people until now. It's...confusing. I never expected a man could be like you.”

“A compliment, I hope?”

“It is. You clearly...desire me, but you respect me as a warrior. When we spar, I know we are equals.”

“Mmmm, I enjoy watching you fight, love. It was the first thing I noticed about you.”

“Whereas I was just annoyed I missed you.”

He barked a laugh. “I thought we decided that was a good thing?”

“We did, but it doesn't mean I would say no to a rematch.”

“Will you teach our daughter to fight?”

“She will be an Amazon; I will if she wishes it. Not all Amazons do battle.”

“No?”

“We have many scholars and farmers. How else would be fed ourselves?”

“Seems like we both have many myths to dispel about our peoples.”

“Tomorrow,” Emma said, yawning. “Right now I'd like to sleep.”

Killian tucked the blanket around them, sleep calling him as well. They could begin to sort out their future in the light of day.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Shouting woke her the next morning. Emma jerked awake, her heart racing. The closest weapon was the dagger she kept by her bed and she snatched it up as she climbed from the pallet.

“I demand to see my niece!” Regina shouted. “I am the Queen!”

“My Queen,” came Rapunzel's voice, “the Princess was very specific...”

A sharp crack sounded that made Emma wince. “Heed me, girl, or you'll be mucking out stalls for a month!”

Emma heard Killian behind her, grumbling groggily. Silently, she waved him quiet. Clearly, it seemed their excursion had not gone entirely unnoticed. She was painfully torn, her instincts telling her to get Killian as far from Regina as she could, but she knew there was no time. There was nowhere for them to go. Quickly, she wrapped herself in the chiton and stepped from her room, dagger concealed in the folds.

The moment she saw Regina she knelt. “My Queen.”

Regina did not look amused. “What is the meaning of this? First I hear your Spartan has displeased you, now this child stands between us? Answer me, Emma!”

Emma silently prayed that was all Regina knew. “All is well again, my Queen. The Spartan has been properly chastised.”

“Where is he?” Regina asked suspiciously.

“In my suite. I attended to his discipline myself. It took...some time.”

“Is this true?” Regina demanded of Rapunzel.

“The Princess and her mate returned near dawn, my Queen,” the blonde said. “There has been no one else.”

“Why am I barred from your room?”

Emma took the chance of standing. “I gave Mulan instructions several days ago, Aunt. The Spartan is _my_ prize.” Still, she thought it politic to through her aunt a bone. “Spartan!”

Killian gritted his teeth, listening near the door. He'd been careful not to make a sound, but he wanted to be there to help Emma if necessary. He didn't quite know what Emma's plan was, but he was sure she had one. To that end, he obediently joined her in the hall, kneeling at her side on the hard stone.

Regina's brows shot up in surprise. The Spartan's head was bowed respectfully; he had faint bruises on his chest. Had Emma managed to break the defiant slave? Regina shoved Rapunzel aside and stepped closer. Emma had to fight the instinct to stand between her and Killian, lest she give them away. Surely it was better for her sisters to believe that what she and Killian shared was purely physical, as was proper. To them, her beloved was a slave.

“What was his offense?”

Emma thought quickly. “He refused me.”

Regina scowled. “Did you learn your place, slave?”

“Yes, milady.” Killian did not dare look up; the idea that he would refuse his princess laughable. Indeed, they could not get enough of each other.

Regina stepped directly in front of him and grabbed his hair, pulling on it roughly, forcing him to look at her. A muscle ticked in his jaw, but he kept obediently silent. “Defy her again and I will not be so gentle, Spartan.”

It took everything he had not to jump up and throttle her. “Yes, milady.”

Regina let him go and turned to Emma. “I am proud of you, Emma. I did not think such a thing was possible. Can you spare his attentions long enough to enjoy the morning meal with your Queen?”

Emma bowed. “I am at your service, my Queen. Allow me to dress?”

“Of course.” Regina leaned forward and kissed Emma's forehead; Emma struggled not to recoil in disgust. This was exactly the fate she had been trying to _save_ Killian from. Seeing him on his knees, the rough way Regina treated him, it all turned her stomach. Had Regina always been this way? Had she? Emma felt shame wash over her, thinking about how she'd treated other prisoners captured in war. Perhaps Killian was a rarity among men, but slavery now felt _wrong_ to her.

The moment Regina was gone, Emma beckoned Killian to follow her. She did not stop until she got to the balcony, launching herself into Killian's arms. He held her tight, her warmth soothing his own jumbled emotions. “Emma, Emma, Emma,” he whispered softly.

“Can you forgive me?”

He stroked her hair soothingly. “There is nothing to forgive, love.”

“I was asleep and there was shouting and...I didn't give you a choice!”

“Regina didn't give _you_ a choice, Princess. She is your queen. Letting her see me that way was the only choice.”

It still didn't feel like enough. “This is why I wanted you to go. You are not a slave, least of all mine.”

“I am yours, Emma. In every way that truly matters.” He tipped her chin up and brushed her lips with his. “I love you.”

Her heart _ached_ ; she loved him so much it hurt. She had to protect him from her aunt. From the laws of her people. Her child needed to know the wonderful man who was its father. “I love you too, Killian.” She kissed him desperately, tears sliding down her cheeks. They lingered as long as she dared; Regina was expecting her. “I'll be back as soon as I can.”

Killian was reluctant to let her out of his sight; he hated letting her face Regina alone. But she was an Amazon and could handle herself. He had to trust that the gods would keep her safe for him. “I'll be waiting.”

Emma forced herself to leave his arms, changing into a soft blue peplos. She strapped the dagger to her thigh, just in case. It wasn't all that unusual for an Amazon to be armed. She said a silent prayer to Hera, pleading with the goddess to keep Killian safe until she could return. Rapunzel was gone, an unknown guard in her place. Regina's doing? Emma frowned, again ordering that her mate not be disturbed by anyone.

Her steps felt heavy; she was still shaken by the abrupt start to her day. They'd only been asleep for a few hours; the adrenaline from her confrontation with Regina was fading. Fear for Killian settled in her breast; had she condemned them both already? Did Regina know? Emma was usually good at spotting lies; Regina's pleasure at Killian's subservience seemed genuine. Perhaps that was all she wanted, just to see that Emma was acting like a proper Amazon, particularly after her warning the day before. Regina was unpredictable at the best of times; Emma had never learned why. It was not so obvious when she was a child; Snow curbed Regina's wilder tendencies. As an adult, Emma learned to stay out of her way; as long as Regina was obeyed, the Amazons loved her. She brought them glory in war, kept them prosperous and well fed.

Before she was ready, Regina's private audience chamber loomed before her. _Protect Killian,_ she reminded herself just before stepping inside. A lavish table was laid, far more food than two people could eat. Emma preferred her simple meals with Killian, taken on her balcony when the weather permitted. Remembering herself, Emma knelt, waiting for Regina.

The Queen entered from the right, changed into a red peplos with jeweled leather girdle. A ceremonial dagger hung from it, the jewels matching the ones in her black hair. It struck Emma forcefully, just how different Regina was from her sister. Emma couldn't remember a _lot_ about her mother, she'd been only four when she died. But she did remember Snow's warm smile, her kind touch. Both women had dark hair, but Emma had inherited her mother's green eyes. Regina's were brown and had none of Snow's warmth. Regina was the younger, her father a mere mortal, rather than a god. And yet here she was, Queen of the Amazons.

“My Queen.”

Regina took notice of her for the first time. “Emma, in these rooms I am your loving aunt, not your Queen.”

Emma stood, willing herself to relax. “Apologies, Aunt. I fear I am still tired.”

“Yes, chastising a willful slave can be difficult.”

“Does it get easier?”

Regina stepped up and clasped her hands. “You are so much like your mother. She had a kind heart as well.”

Emma did not need to feign the sadness she felt. She missed her mother more than ever. Snow would know what to do, what words to say. “But that didn't stop her from being a great Queen.”

“Our enemies do not deserve kindness, Emma. You will do well to remember that when you are queen.”

“Which I pray is many years from now.”

Regina smiled, pleased by the compliment. “It may comfort you to know that your Spartan is not the only slave who has been...difficult.”

“Oh?”

Regina wrinkled her nose in distaste. “It's these Greeks. An unruly people at the best times. Why do you think they fight amongst themselves? Is it too much to hope that the Trojans throw them back into the sea?”

“I can led the army back, if that is your wish.” Perhaps she could smuggle Killian out with it.

“No, you were right to bring our Amazons home. Let those _men_ fight over a feckless woman.”

“They say Helen is very beautiful.”

“She's from Sparta, I imagine your Spartan is biased.”

“He's never mentioned her.”

“Well, I hope for your sake, you don't let him do much talking!” Regina laughed at her jest and urged Emma to sit. There they carried on a somewhat stilted conversation where Emma endured stories of Festivals past. Regina was very proud of her conquests, despite the lack of children. Emma picked at her food, not very hungry to begin with and even less so at the almost fanatical gleam in her aunt's eyes. It was almost like she was seeing Regina for the first time and she did not like what she saw.

“I've been waiting for the right time to give you this,” Regina was saying. She snapped her fingers and a servant stepped out of the shadows carrying a wooden box. “Your mother left it in my care, to be given to you at the right time. Your choice to join the sacred rite of your sisters is the right time, Emma.”

“What is it?”

“Snow's most treasured possessions. She would be proud of you, the woman you've become. As I am.” Regina took the plain box from the servant and handed it to Emma. “I know I have been a poor substitute for her.” Emma's instinct was to protest; as much as the current situation appalled her, Regina was the only maternal figure she knew. But she kept silent. “But I will do all in my power to help raise your child, Emma. I know how much leading the army means to you.”

It meant nothing to her in comparison to Killian's safety. Or the well being of her child. Emma would not let this woman anywhere near her family, not after the way she treated Killian. Still, Emma forced herself to nod, accepting the box. “Thank you, Aunt. That means a lot to me.”

“It is what I promised your mother, should anything happen.”

“What did happen? I was so young...” All she'd understood at the time was her mother was sleeping and would never wake up. The wound had scabbed over in the years since, but now she was curious.

“The war with the Ephesians. You're too young to remember it. Bastardized Greeks believing this part of the world belonged to them.” Regina scowled. “We were on the verge of driving them into their pathetic little city, the battle was to be the next day. Your mother called a war council and she simply...collapsed. No one knows why. An untreated wound? Poison? A curse from the gods? Emma, I was on my knees, by her side, praying as she fell into a sleep from which she would not awaken. I was much like you are now, living only to fight, not wanting the responsibilities of being Queen. That is your birthright, Emma, not mine.”

She sat there, not knowing what to think. Regina's grief and sadness seemed real. She missed Snow as much as Emma did. But how could she be so callous to someone like Killian? In one breath Regina could mourn her lost sister and the next condemn a man to death. She would wield the sword herself and take _pleasure_ in it. Emma could not believe this was all her people stood for. She was proud to be an Amazon, to be a warrior. But she could not callously murder. Was that what it took to be Queen? If it was, Emma wanted no part of it.

“I am not ready to be Queen, Aunt.”

“Your mother wouldn't have wished it so. She would have wanted you to enjoy your youth!” Again, Regina's mood abruptly changed, it was giving Emma whiplash. “Speaking of, it is selfish of me to keep you from the attentions of your Spartan.”

Emma nodded, tucking her mother's treasures under her arm. Then a flash of inspiration hit her. “Aunt, might I make a request?”

Regina looked delighted. It wasn't often Emma asked for things. “If it is in my power to grant, you may have it.”

“Athena is much beloved in Sparta, their patron goddess. It is tradition for a Spartan male to make a sacrifice to her when he is looking to carry on his line.”

“Your Spartan wishes to appease his goddess? Or save his own skin?” Regina sneered.

Emma forced herself to stay calm. “My child will be half Spartan.”

“Your child is an _Amazon_ , Emma. No other. Still, it can not hurt to make an offering. She is the goddess of war. Perhaps she will bless your daughter to be like her mother.”

“Thank you, Aunt.”

“Thank me when you are free of that Spartan.”

Emma nodded respectfully and turned to go. She was so conflicted. She was furious and disgusted about the way Regina spoke about Killian. About anyone who wasn't an Amazon. But elated that she'd convinced Regina to allow them to visit the temple of Athena. Regina most likely would be watching her from now on, which meant that smuggling Killian out would be next to impossible. Now she could make her plea to Athena with Regina's sanction. Was Hera smiling on them?

Killian always said that the gods brought them together for a reason, perhaps it was time she shared his faith.

Killian waited not so patiently for Emma to return. He tried eating but had no appetite. He simply sat on the balcony, watching as Helios traveled across the sky. He knew he should feel angry or regretful about not accepting Emma's offer of freedom when he had the chance, but he couldn't. She would have been in terrible danger if he left. She and their child. He refused to abandon them, no matter what. They could find a way to be together, he was certain of it.

More than an hour passed and he began to get anxious. What was taking so long? Was Regina interrogating Emma? Did she not accept their explanation? It wasn't until after Emma left that he noticed the bruises on his chest from where Emma had struck him. They were faint but enough evidence to lend some credence to their story. He wasn't afraid of Regina or any other Amazon that stood between he and Emma. Give him a sword and a shield and he'd take on Hades himself to get to her.

“Killian?”

Relief washed over him. When he turned, she was there, looking relieved, scared and determined all at once. They crossed the room at the precise same moment, holding each other in a fierce hug. “Are you alright, love?”

She melted into him, not caring if she looked weak. “Better now.”

“What happened? Does she suspect us?”

Emma buried her head in his shoulder, inhaling his scent. It soothed her, waves of calm washing through her. She recalled the night before, Killian echoing her love for the water, the calming effect. Just one more way they were made for one another. “Let's go out to the balcony?”

“As you wish.” Killian watched curiously as she toted a medium sized wooden box; he'd never seen it before. Emma didn't have much in the way of personal possessions. He was about to ask her about it, but she cut him off with a fierce kiss. The box clattered to the ground as he kissed her back, picking her up effortlessly. He deposited them on the chaise, Emma in his lap. “Emma...”

She unpinned the clasps holding up her peplos, untied her girdle. The material pooled around her hips, only his hands holding it to her body. “Just love me, Killian. Please?”

He could not deny the plea in her eyes. He ran his hands up over her newly exposed skin, the silky peplos falling as he brought her lips to his. They both moaned into the kiss, emotions bubbling just beneath the surface, love, fear, hope, desperation. The love between them was so _new_ but it _felt_ old, like their souls had been entwined long before they met. It was not the first time Killian had felt it; he'd felt the world shifting beneath his feet the very first time he laid eyes on her. One way or another, this woman was his future.

Emma paused in her exploration of his body only long enough to impatiently rip the stubborn silk from between them. She needed to feel his skin against hers, the hard planes of his chest against her softer curves, skin hairy where she was smooth. Teeth sank into her swollen lower lip as he moved to her neck, tenderly kissing her pulse. He felt it flutter under his tongue, rapid and thready; he could almost taste her desire. Whatever had happened with the Queen made her needy for him, desperate for his touch. Emma clutched at his head, arching in his lap, his mouth hot on her chest. She whimpered, chanting his name, his mouth sucking on her nipples. He slipped a hand between her thighs, finding her hot and slick already.

“Tell me what you need,” he mumbled against her skin. “Fuck, you're so wet, darling.”

“You,” she panted. “I just need you.”

“Like this?” He boldly pushed three fingers in, her breathy moan going straight to his cock. Holding her hip with his free hand, he encouraged her to ride his fingers, chase her own pleasure. “You are a vision. So good, Princess. Love watching you like this, taking what you need.” Emma braced her hands on his shoulders, giving herself over to the demands of her body. Here she didn't need to think about what was outside her room, it was nothing but harmless shadows. All that mattered was Killian, the way he made her feel, the love in his eyes. The pressure built low in her belly, she brought one hand to her cleft, seeking the sensitive nub. Killian moaned, turned on by her willingness to touch herself. She was a goddess, coming apart in his arms, crying out as she bounced on his fingers, walls clenching around them. “That's a good girl, so lovely when you come.”

Emma tried to brace herself but sagged, breathing coming in harsh pants. “More,” she whispered in his ear. Her emotions were still coiled and frazzled; she needed to him to love her into exhaustion so she could rest and regroup. Rest in the safety of his arms. “Gods, _please.”_

Killian bit his lip in concern; he'd seen Emma hungry for him, but never quite like this. “Are you sure?”

She reached down and curled her hand around his cock, soft and smooth and hard. “I need you inside me, Killian. Fucking me until I can't _think_ , until there is nothing but us. Can you do that for me?”

“I would do anything for you, love.” He kissed her hard, pushing aside his own concern to give her what she needed. She tried to guide him to her, but he slapped her hands away. “Ah, ah, Princess. You're _mine_.” He stood, Emma still in his arms, delighting in her squeal of surprise as he pressed her back into the chaise, Emma facing away from from him. He had her on her knees, bent over so her arms rested across the top. Easing her hair aside, he kissed a trail down her back, cock rutting against the cleft of her ass. “Hmm, you like this, don't you? You like it when I fuck you from behind, utterly at my mercy.”

Her hands gripped the top of the chaise, back arching. “Please! Please!”

He teased her with the head of his weeping cock, just barely penetrating her. She whined and moaned, trying to push her hips back, force him deeper inside her. It was intoxicating, seeing her so desperate to be fucked. He grabbed her hips, forcing her to be still so he could take her, sinking deep inside her hot willing body. He paused for a moment both to gather himself and let her adjust to his girth. The chaise kept her legs closer together than usual and it made her even tighter. He needed several steady breaths before he felt like he could fuck her the way she wanted. Killian bent over her, slowly undulating his hips; Emma bit her lip, her awareness shrinking with every stroke. It was exactly what she needed, tender but forceful, passionate yet loving. They moved together, Emma arching her back further, taking him deeper, crying out.

“Yes, yes, yes!”

Killian curled an arm around her middle to steady them both. “Gods, you feel...ugh, so perfect, Princess. My Princess.”

“Harder, Killian,” she breathed. “Harder!”

“Hold on tight.” Emma braced herself, knuckles white on the edge of the chaise. Killian pulled almost all the way out then slammed back in, much to her delight. She truly could not think, her mind blissfully blank as her Spartan rode them both into oblivion. They came almost simultaneously, a single perfect wave of ecstasy. She milked him dry, walls clenching around him tightly. It left them both exhausted, more emotionally than physically. Emma collapsed almost immediately, spent. Killian caught her, holding her gently as he rearranged them on the chaise. She curled up like a cat in his lap, head sweetly on his shoulder.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He brought her fingers to his lips and kissed them. “Rest, my love. I am right here.”

They'd promised not to do this anymore, not to fall asleep in each other's arms outside the relative safety of the pallet but she needed this. His arms around her, cool breeze on their sweaty skin, his heart pounding under her ear. She knew they needed to talk, decide what to do next, but all that would ruin this quiet moment. Quiet moments she lived for, where there was nothing except the love they shared. She closed her eyes, secure in his arms and gave into sleep.

Killian continued to rub her back as she slept; he was so worried about her. More so than himself. He was a Spartan, trained from young childhood to give his life for his people. He knew the moment he stepped onto the ships to sail to Troy he may not come back. Now he had so much more to _live_ for, but he would happily trade his life for hers. For their child. He'd found something even more important than Sparta and he'd do whatever it took to protect her.

The late night, early morning, intense emotions all conspired against him; now that she was safely in his arms, he could feel sleep tugging at him. He considered moving them back to the pallet, but it was half hearted at best. He didn't want to wake her, his princess was exhausted, needed to rest. They would talk later.

* * *

Emma woke shivering, the air much cooler than she remembered. She tried to move, but came up short at the kink in her back. She'd fallen asleep in Killian's arms. He was still in the land of dreams, looking painfully handsome in the fading sunlight. They'd slept the day away. Gently, she kissed the scruffy underside of his jaw, easing herself out of his lap. She stretched, trying to work out the soreness in her body. Focusing on simple things helped her avoid the knot of fear in her chest. She'd been—if not overly optimistic, at least hopeful—when they returned from the meadow, but now? She wanted to believe but did not know how.

“Emma?”

“I didn't mean to wake you.”

“You did not.” Killian swung his legs off the chaise and stood, gathering her to his chest. “Ready to talk, love?”

“Kiss me?”

He smiled down at her and did, an aching tender kiss. “Better?”

She didn't answer, just hugged him tight. They were in terrible danger, locked in a place that condemned their love as wrong, but none of that mattered when he held her. Gathering her courage, she stooped to pick up her mother's box, then tugged him back into her suite. He looked at her questioningly, but didn't press. She made him wait as she took up the flint to light a candle, not wanting to wait for the servants. Killian reclined back on the pallet, watching her. Her movements were sure, even as her face was drawn in apprehension. Whatever Regina had said frightened her, even if Emma would never admit it out loud. She was so strong, his Amazon.

When she finally turned to face him, her nude form was bathed in a golden glow. She truly did look like a goddess. Aphrodite herself could not have been more beautiful. He kept that opinion to himself, not wishing the goddess to strike him down where he sat. The stories all said she was a very jealous creature. Not to mention she sided with the treacherous Trojans, patron to Paris himself.

The cause that brought him to this place suddenly felt inconsequential in comparison to the future before him.

“Is it safe for us to talk?”

Emma nodded, finally joining him on the pallet. “For now, it seems like Regina believes us. I have kept the meadow a secret for many years, let us pray it remains so.”

He took her hands in his. “You took an extraordinary risk for me, Emma. I trust you with my life.”

“I feel like I do not deserve your faith,” she admitted. “Or your love.”

He shook his head. “You deserve more than I could ever give you. I am only a simple soldier.”

“A soldier's life was all I thought I wanted. That I would live and die on the battlefield.”

“And now?”

She drew his hand to her stomach. “I want our child. I want to raise her with you, have her know that she is an Amazon _and_ a Spartan. I just don't know how.”

“Athena will answer our prayers, Emma. I believe that.”

“Our play acting this morning did accomplish one thing.”

“What's that?”

“I asked Regina if we could visit Athena's temple, make an offering.”

“You did?”

“She gave her permission.”

Killian beamed, a toothy dimpled smile that stole Emma's heart all over again. He hugged her close. “And you thought my faith in you misplaced,” he whispered happily into her hair. “Silly princess.”

“I had to make something up. I wanted to take advantage of her good mood.”

“I don't care. It matters not how you obtained this gift, Emma.”

“She should not have touched you,” Emma declared. “Or said those things. You're not a slave, Killian.”

“Your laws would disagree.”

She nodded sadly. “I promise to protect you until we find another way. Listening to Regina talk about her conquests...it made me sick. For the first time, I am...ashamed to be an Amazon.”

He kissed her brow and hugged her, wishing there was more he could do for her. He understood her feelings; he felt it himself at Troy. Years of seemingly fruitless war took a toll on him, made him wonder what it was all for. “We were brought together for a reason, my love. No matter the mode, I could never regret being with you. And I love you, just as you are.”

She smiled, trying to soak in his faith. She wanted to believe so badly. “We'll go to Athena's temple tomorrow.”

He stroked her cheek. “Perhaps you should visit Artemis as well. I know she's important to you.”

“I doubt she'd listen. I gave up my virginity.”

He looked away and her heart clenched. “Do you wish you hadn't?”

Emma cupped his cheeks and forced him to look in her eyes. “I truly don't. I did wonder if I'd made the right choice at first. I didn't understand the things you make me feel.” She blushed. “I've never been in love.”

“Nor I. But I would not trade what we have for anything.”

“Not even to be free?”

“I thought we sorted that last night, love. I will not leave you or our child. I want us to be a family.”

A family. Even among the Amazons, her sisters, Emma had always felt alone. Like she didn't quite belong. It was why she threw herself into her duties as head of the army, only had a couple of close friends. Her mother had been gone for so long now. “I have not had a real family since I was very small.”

“Not even your aunt?” Regina disgusted him, but she was the only blood family Emma had.

“She and my mother are very different. She became...colder, more unpredictable after Mother's death.”

“I know you miss her, Emma.”

She nodded, drawing comfort from his embrace. Snow was the last person to hold her this way, truly care about her feelings. She spent so long burying her emotions, it was no wonder they frightened her so much. “Regina...gave me this box. She says it contains my mother's most prized possessions.”

“She just...gave it to you?”

“She promised my mother that she'd give it to me at the right time. Choosing to become a mother myself...is the right time?”

Killian smiled tenderly down at her. Emma would be such a good mother; she had too kind a heart to be anything else. “Would you like me to stay while you open it?”

“Please?”

He pressed a kiss to her temple, then moved so the box was between them. Emma had to take a deep breath to steady herself; she was surprisingly nervous. What could her mother have wanted kept from her for all these years? Slowly, she lifted the wooden lid and laid it aside. The box wasn't as deep as it appeared from the outside; the contents were covered in loose yellow silk. She pulled the cloth out and gasped.

“Emma?”

“I thought I lost this,” she whispered. “I was so scared; I couldn't tell her. She had it all the time.” Gingerly, Emma lifted the golden chain from the box, the jeweled flower pendant still hung from it. Killian noted the tears that welled in her eyes; the necklace was clearly important to her. “My earliest memory is her wearing this. She never took it off. But one day I saw it in her room and I put it on. I knew it was wrong, but I was so curious about it. I went out to play on the grounds; it must have slipped off. It was far too long for me then.” She smiled at Killian; he probably thought her a sentimental fool.

“It's beautiful, love. May I?”

Emma folded it carefully into his hand and returned to the box. There were some scraps of cloth she didn't understand, a long curved dagger that she'd never seen. Jeweled combs finely wrought in both gold and silver lay beside a papyrus scroll she knew well. Emma had a similar one; it chronicled her achievements, victories in battle. Every Amazonian warrior had one. She carefully unrolled it; it was a bit brittle. She read the facts of her mother's life, her eyes lingering on the year she became one of the Chosen. Emma had always wondered about her father; it was a mystery, unlike her grandfather. Snow liked to tell the story of Ares disguising himself to participate in the games. She was not arrogant about having a god for a father, but she did want Emma to be proud of her heritage.

Which made Snow's reluctance to speak of her mate even more perplexing.

Killian laid the necklace aside, studying her face as she examined the scroll. He didn't know what it meant, but he could be patient. The box was empty now, so he took the opportunity to examine it. It wasn't as ornate as he expected, considering its owner. No gold or gems, simply smoothly planed wood. He turned it over, finger tracing the small knot in the wood; to his shock, he discovered it wasn't a knot at all. It was a hole, painted black for better concealment. Too small for his index finger, he slipped his pinky inside. The very tip brushed against more wood. He pushed a little harder and the bottom (or what they thought was the bottom) of the box _moved._

“Emma?”

“What is it?”

“I think this box has more secrets.”

“What?”

He showed her his finger still in the hole he'd discovered. Emma's eyes widened and she set the scroll aside to take the box from him. Her finger fit much more easily in the hole and the false bottom popped out. Inside, she found layers of papyrus, carefully sewn together rather than rolled. She'd never seen anything like it. She peeled the first piece back and recognized her mother's hand.

“What is it, Emma? What's wrong?”

“I am...not sure. This is my mother's handwriting, but I've never seen this before.”

He took her hand in his; it was trembling. “I am right here, my love.”

Emma squeezed his hand gratefully. Her mother's words from beyond the grave? She didn't know if she was ready, but surely it was important if she'd gone to such lengths to conceal it. Emma was certain that if Regina knew such a thing existed, she would have kept it for herself. She started to open it, but they heard commotion in the hall. Thinking quickly, Emma hide the papyrus under the blanket, shoved the false bottom back into place. She and Killian replaced the other treasures in the box, all save the necklace. She handed it to Killian and allowed him to place it over her head as the servants brought in the evening meal.

Once they were alone again, Emma pulled out the bundle. “I want to read this.”

Killian nodded in agreement. “Come, I will make sure you eat while you read.” He did not want to pry, the words were meant for Emma alone. But he could watch over her. Getting up, he strode to the balcony to fetch her peplos. He wound it carefully around her body and urged her to join him at the table. Emma kissed his cheek in gratitude, clutching the bundle to her chest. She waited until he'd poured them some wine and fed her a few tasty morsels of fruit before returning her attention to the papyrus.

_My dearest Emma,_

_As I write this, you are playing at my feet, just beginning to crawl. Every day that passes, my love for you grows. You are the light of my life; I know you will be a great Queen one day. But not too soon, sweet girl. I can not wait to see how you grow and change, even as I long for you to remain as you are in this moment. Your birth was the greatest day of my life, a comfort to me in a time of great sorrow._

_You are too young still, my daughter, but I know one day the questions will come. We are so isolated here in Themiscyra, our way of life unique in the known world. I pray to Hera that I will be there to give you the answers you seek, but in case I am not, I have decided to leave you this record. Its very existence is subversive to our way of life but I will not conceal the truth from you. You deserve to know the man who gave you to me and how much I loved him._

Emma nearly dropped the bundle in shock. She was not alone. Her mother had _loved_ her father, just as Emma loved Killian. This knowledge only begged more questions. Who was he? Where had he come from? Was he still alive? Emma thought she already knew the answer to the last. If her birth was a comfort, then her father must be dead. It was something that Emma had thought herself, when she was determined to let Killian go. That her child would comfort her, allow her to have a piece of the one she loved with her forever.

“Emma?”

“She loved him,” she found herself saying. “She loved him and she had to keep it a secret.”

“I'm not following, love.”

“My mother. When she was a Chosen, she fell in love with my father.”

Killian blinked, then realization dawned. He'd been right. Emma wasn't the first Amazon to fall in love. “Holy Hera.”

“I have to finish this. I have to know what happened.”

“Of course, love.” Snow's tale could have the answer they sought. At the very least, it gave him hope. Someone with Emma's kindness and compassion had to been born of great love. It made him love her all the more, even as his heart bled for her. To find this out now, this great secret from a mother she barely remembered had to be difficult. He offered what comfort he could, made certain she nourished herself. He watched as she turned the pages, her cheeks stained with tears.

James. His name was James. He was a member of a neighboring tribe, captured in a skirmish. Blonde hair, blue eyes, handsome. Emma smiled to herself as her mother waxed poetic about her lover; it reminder of her own thoughts about Killian. She thought her Spartan was the most handsome man in the world as well. Unlike Emma though, Snow didn't realize how she truly felt until the end of the ritual.

_My heart jumped in my throat as the crystal was placed around my neck, suddenly terrified for James's life. What if it glowed dreaded blue? Could I watch him cut down in front of me, the one who made me feel so much? I knew then that what I felt could only be love. The relief I felt when the crystal shined gold was palpable; my eyes instantly saw his. He smiled at me, my own feelings reflected in his eyes._

_Our joy was shortlived, as the captives were to banished the next morning. We stayed up all night, loving each other, finally saying the words out loud. I did not want to let him go. How could I? I made the mistake of voicing my fears out loud and James begged me to run away with him. To leave Themiscyra and find our own way. We would raise our child together, give you brothers and sisters, be happy. In that moment, I wanted to. Desperately. But it was so difficult to leave everything I knew. And I would have left our people with Regina as my mother's heir. I love my sister, but she has not the temperament to be Queen._

_Still, James overrode my objections. In truth, I allowed him to convince me. We concocted a plan. He would leave with the other survivors and I would meet him the following night at the edge of the city. From there we would travel downriver to the coast and find a ship to take us anywhere we wished to go._

Emma choked on tears, not wanting read what came next. Killian saw her distress and took her into his arms. She leaned on him heavily, sighing as he rubbed soothing circles in the small of her back. He didn't ask her to explain, willing to wait until she was ready. Emma kissed his lips in gratitude, drawing strength from him. She read as her mother packed her most necessary possessions, purloined food from the kitchens. In the dead of night, Snow slipped from her bed, pulled on a traveling cloak and crept from her room.

Snow knew something was wrong the moment she reached the secret rendezvous. Leaves shined black in the moonlight, felt wet even though there had been no rain. She groped in the darkness, not daring a torch, and tripped over something lumpy and heavy. It was James. Lifeless. Blue eyes sightless and wide. Dead.

Killian did not need Emma to speak to know what she'd discovered. Gently, he pried the bundle from her hands and held her as she cried. Mourned the father she never knew. How could Amazons be so cruel? To cuts fathers off from their children? From the potential for love and to be loved in return? Did they not worship the same gods he did? His heart shattered for Emma, her poor heart going through so much in such a short time. Was it just last night that they swam together in the river? She'd tried to save them from this fate and he rebuffed her. Had he condemned them to an even worse fate? It was so difficult to have hope when his princess felt so broken, so fragile in his arms.

“I am so sorry, so sorry,” he whispered into her hair. “I did not mean to fall in love with you.”

Emma looked at him through her tears, confused. He could not mean he _regretted_ her? “Don't,” she cried. “Please don't be sorry. I could not bear it.”

“But what have I done? You would not be here weeping if not for me.”

“Killian, I _always_ wondered about my father. You did not do that. You did not end his life nor _make_ me love you. I fell in love with you all on my own. I believe the gods brought us together for a reason.”

“Isn't that my line?” he joked, his voice strained with unshed tears.

“It's also my mother's line.” She looked around, finding the bundle to Killian's left. She picked it up and thumbed to the right page. She read aloud. “Despite all that has happened, I would not change a single moment, Emma. I will forever believe that the gods brought us together for a reason. That reason is you.”

He offered her a watery smile, his lip quivering. “I love you more than you will ever know, Emma.”

“As I love you.” She kissed him, tasting the salt of her own tears. But they were hopeful tears. She had been loved. By a mother _and_ a father, parents who wanted to raise her far from here. Their story ended in tragedy, but hers did not have to meet the same fate. She and Killian could make it. They could have the life Snow and James had been denied by the Fates. It would hard, they would need to fight for it. But she was an Amazon. Amazons did not give up, they fought until the bitter end.

Killian leaned his forehead against hers. “How do we begin?”

She carded her fingers through his shaggy hair. “We visit the temple. We go there, make our offering. Beseech Athena for guidance and wait for a sign.”

“Let us pray she is quick about it.”

“Remember the shooting star? Hera sent it, I'm sure of it.” She raised her head and traced his features. “However, I do have a confession to make.”

“A confession?”

“I did not visit her temple to thank her. You confused me so much, the things I feel when we're together, I did not understand. And when you accused me of just wanting you for myself...”

“That was ungenerous of me, Emma. Apologies. Again.”

She smiled; the whole thing seemed silly now. “But I _do_ want you for myself, Killian. It wasn't why I saved you in that precise moment, but I was attracted to you from the moment I saw a bold Greek staring me from the river as he washed.”

“You were a vision. I could not help myself.”

“If you had, we would not be here. All this to say, I prayed to Hera for guidance, to figure out what to do about you. When she sent that shooting star, I knew that this was right. We are meant to be together, Killian. And I no longer have the strength to send you away.”

“Nor I the strength to go. Not without you.”

“We must hide my mother's diary. If anyone knew what it contained...she called it subversive.”

“At the very least. Your people's entire way of life is based on not needing men.”

“And what about your people? How do the Spartans treat their women?”

“Very well, much better than our neighbors. Women are educated, can hold their own property. Every bit as well fed and fit as an Amazon. And Spartan women get married much later than others without becoming subservient to their husbands.”

That explained so much about him. Hera truly had blessed her in her choice of mate. “I was taught that in Greece women are little more than slaves.”

“Not in Sparta. I would love to show you my home one day.”

“And I would love to see it.” She laid her head on his shoulder, exhaustion settling in her bones. “Hmm, it's late.”

“Indeed. We should hide your mother's things then get some sleep. You're exhausted.”

“Leave the dagger out; we can take it for our offering.”

“You would part with it?”

She touched the chain around her neck. “He gave this to her. This flower is the symbol of his people. That's why she never took it off.”

“She wanted you to have it.”

“I hope so. I feel...connected to her now in a way I never was before.”

He ran his thumb over her lips. “I never knew her, but I can see her in you. She would be proud of you.”

When Killian said those words, she believed him. Snow would want her to find happiness, she was certain of it. She gave him a slow deep kiss, then reluctantly stood so they could clean up and hide her precious treasures. The diary when back into the false bottom, then was covered with the scraps and jewelry. Emma laid the ornate dagger beside her bed, to be offered to Athena on the morrow. Killian unwound the silk from her body and carried her to bed, concealing them behind the curtain. They cuddled close, drawn to each other for comfort as they slipped into a deep slumber.

* * *

Killian's jaw ticked as the manacles clinked around his wrists. He knew this was necessary, but he still hated it. Emma tenderly kissed each wrist before she chained him, feeling awful for him. The dagger was tucked into her girdle, ready to be left as an offering. “Ready?”

“Almost.” She looked up at him, confused, but sighed as his lips crashed to hers. She slid her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply, pouring all the love she felt for him into it. They did not break apart until her lungs threatened to burst from lack of air. She licked her lips, savoring the sweet taste of him. She squeezed his hands, then led him from her suite. She wore a simple white peplos, emphasizing humility and reverence. Killian was dressed similarly, if asked she would just repeat Regina's permission for the special circumstances. She'd told Regina that this was the way of Killian's people; he couldn't stand before the goddess naked. Nor did Emma want him to be anymore humiliated than he already was. She watched with a pained heart as he lowered his eyes the moment they left the safety of her room, ready to play the part of the submissive slave.

She longed for the day when they could both hold their heads high and not be concerned what anyone else thought of them.

Mulan was at the end of the hall this day, which Emma found comforting. She liked Mulan, trusted her to do her duty. They exchanged pleasantries, Emma explaining their excursion. She took the quickest path to the outdoors, seeking to avoid as many people as possible.

Killian breathed easier the moment they were outside; he could feel the sun on his face, breeze in his hair. He could see and hear a gaggle of Amazons engaged what appeared to be training off to their right. A dozen young girls, all with wooden practice swords, obeying commands from a black haired beauty.

“That's Jasmine,” Emma whispered as they passed. “She's one of our fiercest warriors.”

“Training the young ones in your stead?”

“We all do the training, but I guess you're right.” She would likely have been training some of the little ones had she not saved Killian's life.

“I do not want you to give up the things you love,” he whispered back. He did not miss the wistful look on her face. She was a great warrior; he knew how much it meant to her. It was one of his favorite things about her.

“One thing at a time, Spartan,” she said, little louder. They could talk about this once they had a plan, a sign from Athena as to what they should do. If there could not be a place in Themiscyra for them together, then they would go somewhere else. Sparta, perhaps. Or one of the many islands in the Aegean. The place did not matter, as long as Killian was by her side.

They crossed the beautiful grounds, passing Hera's temple along the way. Emma said a silent prayer to the goddess as she passed, truly thanking her this time for bringing Killian into her life. She understood exactly what her mother meant when she'd written that she could not regret her love for James. Killian made her feel alive, comfortable in her own skin for the first time in her life. She was more than _just_ a warrior, just as her own mother was. Glory in battle was fleeting but love was forever.

A large olive tree grew in front of Athena's temple, planted by her ancestors decades ago. Stone owls guarded the entrance to the formidable place of worship. As the goddess of war, Athena had a large cult among her sisters, second only to Artemis. Emma had chosen Artemis as a child, appreciating her love for the hunt. Now she wondered if she would choose differently. Probably not. It was Aphrodite who held new meaning for her.

They paused at the entrance to the temple, Emma looking around to ensure they were alone. Then she removed the manacles from his wrists. They would face the goddess as equals. Killian immediately threaded their fingers together, giving her a reassuring squeeze. She smiled up at him, squeezing back. Together they entered the temple, both taken slightly aback at its sheer magnificence.

Built from limestone, ceiling soared more than ten cubits over their heads. At the base of each column lay hundreds of offerings from generations of Amazons, broken shields, swords covered in dried blood, dented armor. Accouterments that had served them well in war. The largest pile lay at the base of the statue; her inherited dagger felt paltry in comparison.

“It is dear to you, to your family,” Killian said softly, sensing her thoughts. “It will serve.”

She nodded, guiding him to the small washbasin. They each cleansed their hands and forearms; the familiar act centered her, calmed her lingering trepidation. They needed to be focused, certain of what they wished to ask of the goddess before they made their plea.

Emma watched as Killian reverently approached the image of the goddess. He knelt before the statue, a regal Athena, dressed in peplos and armor, a helm pushed back on her head. She held a spear and the fearsome Aegis, the shield that contained the head of the Gorgon, Medusa, a perfect warrior.

“Wise Athena, we come to you humbly and with great respect,” Killian began. “Our two peoples have been at war for many years, we ourselves faced each other on the fields of Troy.” He glanced Emma, who used his pause as her moment to join him in supplication. She knelt by his side, entwining her hand with his. “Now we find ourselves engaged in a different kind of battle, one we wish to fight side by side...as equals.”

Emma took up his plea. “Pallas, you are beloved among my sisters, the patron goddess of Sparta. You are known to be wise and cunning, a champion of heroes and mortals. We wish to stay together, raise our daughter together. We beseech you to help us make it so. She would be a child in your image, a fierce warrior.” She extracted the curved dagger from girdle. “This dagger belonged to my mother, given to her by _her_ beloved, my father. I wish to honor them by living with Killian at my side, not as a slave.” She placed the dagger at the goddess's feet, then turned back to Killian. “I love you,” she mouthed.

He smiled, warmth spreading through him. He turned back to the goddess, humbling himself once more. “We pray for guidance, for protection from those who would do us harm. The Princess is dear to me, as is the child we pray she carries. Do not take them from me, goddess. Please.” Another beat and he squeezed Emma's hand, indicating it was time to go.

They rose and backed away from the statue, heads still bowed. Once they were outside, Emma wrapped her arms around him, touched by his heartfelt words. Killian buried his nose in her hair, inhaling her scent. She smelled of sunshine and ambrosia, the faint smell of sex clinging to her skin. “Love you,” he whispered.

“And I you.” Gently, she raised his head. “Do you think she'll answer?”

“I do. We must have faith.”

“Yes.” She looked around, questioning if they should press their luck. Killian had suggested she make her peace at Artemis's temple; it hadn't seemed necessary. But looking at their situation now, it would not do to offend the goddess she'd worshipped for so long. “Do you mind waiting here? Artemis's temple is not far from here.”

Killian nodded, glad to hear she wanted to pay her respects. Artemis was the goddess of childbirth as well as virginity; appealing to her could ensure her a good hour when the time came. He was convinced it would. They would have a child. He would enjoy being a father, something his brother never got to experience.

Emma did not want to take any more chances than they had to, so she replaced the manacles to his wrists. A swift kiss to his cheek and she ran in the direction of the temple. It occurred to her that she had no offering but it was too late now. Artemis's temple was tiny compared to Athena's, even though she was almost equally beloved. This was due to the fact that it was a cave and not a traditional temple. It faced southeast, the direction from which the moon rose. Here the offerings were mostly animal skins, brought down in the hunt. Emma had not been here in since before she left for Troy.

The washbasin was carved from the rock wall; Emma hurriedly washed, not wanting to leave Killian alone for too long. Artemis's statue lay at the very back of the cave, a girl no older than sixteen, a bow and arrow in her hands, woodland animals at her feet. To a young Emma, she embodied everything she wished to be. Fiercely independent, worshipped by men but beholden to none, a deadly shot with her bow. Artemis appealed a great deal to Emma then and she still did.

“It's a bit of a misconception.”

Emma jumped, looking for the sound of the voice. At first she thought she imagined it, then she saw the young girl at the mouth of the cave. “Who are you?”

The girl laughed, bronze curls bouncing behind her. “It has been a while since you've been here, Emma.”

Emma stepped closer, cursing the darkness at the back of the cave. “Do we...know each other?”

“I know you very well, Amazon. But no, we have never formally met.”

A strap crossed the girl's torso; she had a bow in her hand. No, it couldn't be. Gods did not converse with mortals! “You're Artemis.” Emma dropped to her knees, utterly stunned.

Artemis laughed, mortals amused her. “Well, you did figure it out sooner than most. Rise, child.”

Emma stood, still gobsmacked. What did the goddess want with her? Where was Killian? Was he safe? Before she could get a word out, Artemis held up her hand. “Your Spartan is fine. I concealed him from prying eyes so we could talk.”

Emma let out a sigh of relief. “Apologies. It has been an...intense few days, Huntress.”

“Yes, I've been keeping an eye on you. Even though I am mildly offended you went to my sister for help first.”

Emma gnawed on her lip, suddenly very nervous. As if conversing with a goddess wasn't nervewracking enough! “I am sorry, we simply thought...”

Artemis waved her hand. “I understand why you did; your reasoning was sound. You and your Spartan are both warriors; she'll like that.”

“She will?”

“Oh yes. Dedicating your daughter to her was a nice touch.”

Emma shook her head, still massively thrown. “Apologies, Huntress. But why...”

“Am I here? An excellent question.” The goddess sat on an outcropping urging Emma to sit by her. She did, her hands shaking slightly. She was in the presence of an actual goddess. “First, I came to disabuse you of the notion that I do not understand your situation. You think I am offended because you surrendered your virginity.”

Emma cringed, having voiced that exact concern. It was why she'd demurred visiting the temple in the first place. “I haven't offended you?”

“Of course not. I loved once too, you know.”

“You did?”

“Do they teach you nothing in this country? I'm going to have words with my brother, make him put it in a song. Something that doesn't rhyme. He is obsessed with rhyming.” Artemis turned her attention back to Emma. “His name was Orion. We hunted together.”

Emma had heard of Orion. “Didn't you accidentally kill him?” She clapped her hand over her mouth for her impertinence; if she hadn't offended the goddess before, she surely had now.

Artemis sighed sadly but nodded. “A trap laid by my brother. I still have not quite forgiven him.”

“Apollo?”

“Those closest to us have the greatest capacity to cause harm.”

“I am sorry.”

Artemis's face softened, looking more like a young maiden than ever. “You really mean that.”

“Apologies, but after reading about my parents...no one should go through that.”

“Which brings us to the second reason I am here.”

“I can't send him away,” Emma said abruptly. “I tried, I tried to set him free but he doesn't want to go. I vowed to give him a choice.”

“A very noble thing,” Artemis said sagely. “I've never approved of the way the Amazons treated their prisoners. However, some things are too ingrained to be undone.”

“Then what can we do? I can't watch him die.”

“Well, you don't have to worry about that.” The goddess smiled. “For you _are_ with child, Emma.”

Her eyes widened, hand flying to her stomach. “I am?!”

“You are. I know you've already dedicated her to Athena, but I will also do what I can to protect her.”

“Her...I'm having a daughter?”

“I am the goddess of childbirth, I make it my business to know these things.”

Happiness surged through her; Hera had answered her prayer. “But Killian...”

“I will speak to Athena. I'm certain we can come up with something. It may take some time; she's rather angry with me at the moment.”

“Angry?”

“It's this war. The Greeks and Trojans. Athena, naturally, supports Sparta and the Greeks. However, my brother is patron god of Troy. The gods are fighting just as much as the mortals.”

She could not imagine gods fighting. But then again, she still could not believe Artemis was actually in front of her. “Anything you can do would be deeply appreciated, Huntress.”

“As I said, I've watched over you since you were a small child. Your anguish called out me.”

Emma looked away, embarrassed. She had not meant to disturb the goddess. “I am humbled and thankful. I never expected...any of this.”

Artemis stood. “Go, find your Spartan. Tell him your news. I'm sure you will enjoy celebrating.”

Emma knelt, her head bowed. “Thank you, Huntress. We will not forget your kindness.”

Artemis touched Emma's shoulder, granting her blessing. When Emma looked up, she was gone.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Emma dashed back the way she had come, mind racing even faster than her feet. She actually conversed with a goddess. Artemis had come to her and not only given Emma her blessing but bestowed joyous news! She was with child. She and Killian were going have the daughter they dreamed about. She was so happy, she couldn't contain it. She needed to tell Killian.

He was right where she left him, concealed behind one of the stone owls. He looked up expectantly the moment he heard movement. A huge grin broke out on his handsome face when he saw her. “Emma?”

She smiled back at him; she couldn't stop herself. Yes, there were still dangers to be faced but in this moment none of that could touch her. She needed to be back in his arms and celebrate. Artemis had been right about that; they _would_ thoroughly enjoy celebrating.

Killian was taken aback; Emma didn't stop until she was practically on top of him, lips crushed to his. He grunted in surprise, but straightened out his legs so he could hoist her into his lap. “Emma, what..” But she cut him off with more kisses, he could taste the joy pouring out of her. He angled his head to deepen the kiss, groaning her tongue tangled with his.

“You're safe,” she whispered, pausing for air. “She promised you were.”

“Who promised, love? What happened?”

Rather than answer him, she just kissed him again. “Missed you.”

He chuckled, chains rattling as he rubbed her sides. “While I'm glad to hear that, you're starting to worry me, Princess. What happened? Did you go to Artemis' temple?”

She finally sat back so she could look at him properly. There was so much she needed to tell him; she was having trouble finding the right words. Would he even believe her? Emma hardly believed it herself and she'd seen Artemis with her own eyes. She gathered that Artemis didn't reveal herself to mortals often. “Yes, I went to the temple. And Killian...I _saw_ her. I spoke to her. Artemis.”

He frowned. “You saw Artemis? She came to you? Are you alright? She wasn't angry?”

Emma laughed, cupping his scruffy cheeks. He needed a trim. “No, she was not. And I'm not mad, I promise.”

Killian touched her cheek. “I never thought you were mad. I just...I know you were worried you had offended her. If she hurt you...”

Emma hugged him fiercely, incredibly touched. This was why she loved him. He put her first. Nothing was more important to him than her. She was certain the same would apply to their daughter. She was positively bursting with that news, but she needed him to understand exactly what happened with Artemis. “That was why she came. To tell me that she wasn't offended. She...” Emma blushed. “She said she'd been watching over me since I was a little girl.”

Killian smiled, his lips brushing her brow. “Of course she has. You are extraordinary, Emma.”

“She also said we were right to ask Athena for help. She's going to speak to her for us.”

“Truly?” Killian shook his head. It wasn't that he didn't believe her; he did. Emma wouldn't lie to him. He was just having trouble believing that gods actually spoke to each other and had relationships the same as mortals. He knew all the legends and stories, of course he did. But he'd never met a god in the flesh before.

Emma nodded. “I know, I can hardly believe it myself. She even protected you while we spoke.”

“She did?”

“Yes, but Killian...there's something else. Something important.”

Immediately he grew serious. “What is it, love?”

Taking a deep breath, she guided his large hand to her stomach. “I am with child.”

He blinked, his ears absorbing her words but his brain slow to respond. It was one of his most fervent hopes, for Emma to bear his child. _Their_ child. He knew that even before he knew he loved her. He watched her face fall, then caught himself, shaking his head to clear it. “Emma, _Emma._ My love, that is... _wonderful_ news!” He looped his chained arms over her head and crushed her to his chest, now fully understanding her joy.

She giggled, relief washing through her. “You're happy?”

He laughed too. “Yes, my Princess. I am _very_ happy. I just...I did not think we would know this soon? How?”

“Artemis. She just...knew. We're having a little girl, Killian.”

Tears stung his eyes. A daughter. His fierce, beloved Amazon was having a girl. His dream of a dark haired beauty training under her mother's tutelage was one step closer to reality. Impulsively, he kissed Emma hard, trailing his lips over her cheek, her throat. “Thank you,” he whispered hoarsely. “Thank you for this gift, love.”

She buried her face in the crook of his neck, inhaled his strong masculine scent. “I love you,” she mumbled into his skin. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Emma. Both of you.” He stroked the sides of her belly with his thumbs. “And you are certain this what you want?”

Emma lifted her head. “I think it is a bit late for that, is it not?”

His thumb continued to stroke her. “I do not wish you to have any regrets, Emma.”

She covered his hands with hers. “I want this child, Killian. I want us to raise her together, perhaps have others. I want the life my mother didn't get to have.” She looked around at her home, a place that looked almost foreign to her now. “What's been done to you is wrong. I do not want our daughter to be raised like I was. If there was a place for us here, if you could be _free_ here, then we could stay. But I would rather go far from here, to a place where we can both be who we are and love each other and raise our family, than part from you. I could never regret falling in love with you or having our baby.”

Against his will a tear slid down his cheek. He could not describe how much her love meant to him. She was giving up so much, everything she'd ever known, to share her heart with him. He would do everything in his power to protect her and their child. She thumbed away his tear and he pressed his lips to her palm. “We should get you back.”

“We should get _you_ back. Before Regina accuses us of taking advantage of her kindness.” She touched his manacles. “And we need to get these off.”

He cocked a brow at her. “Planning on something that requires me to be free, love?”

She smiled, lips touching the sensitive spot under his ear. “I hope you're rested, Spartan. I have need of you.”

He shivered at her husky tone. “I live to serve you, Princess.”

Emma stole another hungry kiss, a taste of what was to come, before lifting herself out of his lap. She helped him up and led them back to the palace. Her skin itched under the silk of her chiton; she wanted Killian's hands and mouth on her, feel his skin against hers. Let them bask in their happiness until Athena sent them a sign. Artemis promised.

They received a few more looks as they made their way to Emma's suite. Some of the young ones looked mildly upset Killian was fully clothed, inhibiting their opportunity to ogle him. Emma resisted the urge to grind her teeth and not only out of possessiveness. Killian didn't deserve to be treated like a piece of meat, only there for her (or another Amazon's) pleasure. As much as Emma enjoyed the sex, she loved Killian for much more than that. He was brave and sweet, he made her laugh. He was a great warrior and she enjoyed sparring with him. They spent hours just _talking_ and she'd never felt such a connection to another person. Losing him now meant losing a piece of herself as well.

Mulan was still there when they returned. “Princess.”

“Mulan. I wish not to be disturbed. By _anyone_. Is that clear?”

The brunette kept her eyes front, then she nodded. “Yes, Princess. As you say.”

Emma nodded curtly and jerked roughly on Killian's chains. Artemis had said that her desire to give Killian choice was noble, but she didn't feel very noble right now. Her earlier happiness felt hollow as the reality of their situation practically smacked her in the face once more. She hated everything about this, the sound of the clinking chains, the subdued shuffle of his feet, the lowered eyes and slumped shoulders. Her Spartan played his part to perfection, but she could only imagine what it cost him. He was a proud warrior and she loved him so much for it.

The moment they were alone in the suite, Emma pinned him to the wall and kissed him. “I am sorry,” she whispered.

“For what, love?” His arms were still pinned between them, but he would not complain about her soft curves pressed against his body.

“The way they were looking at you. It is not right.”

“I chose to stay,” he reminded her. “Being with you is more important than my pride. Especially now.”

“Now?”

A happy dimpled smile lit up his face. “You're with child. Forget already, Princess?”

She smiled too, joy pushing away her unease. “Forget may be too strong a word. It is...a little difficult to believe, even with Artemis' assurance. I do not feel different.”

Killian's hands rested on her belly. “I imagine that will take some time, love.” He'd daydreamed about what she would look like, belly rounded, breasts heavy and swollen, skin aglow. She would be even more beautiful than she was now, he was certain of it. His hands moved higher, skimming over the silk, cupping her pert breasts. Emma's breathing hitched, nipples hardening underneath the fabric. “But for now...”

She arched, sighing, warmth spreading through her. Being with child already did not make her want him any less. She needed him to touch her, to love her until they were both exhausted. “Hmmm.”

Killian leaned forward and captured her lips in a kiss. Slow, languid, tongues stroking, stoking the passion between them. He pushed the silk aside, hands on her bare skin, weighing each breast in his hand. Her fingers curled in the linen chiton he wore, her knees weakening under his sweet touch. “So soft and perfect.”

Cold metal touched her skin and she hissed. “We need to get these off,” she murmured between kisses.

“You don't want your plaything chained?”

Emma opened her eyes and stilled his hands. “I want my lover to touch me however he wishes.”

His heart threatened to burst with love for her. She deserved so much more than he could give her, but he would do his best. He watched in awe as she produced the key and unlocked the manacles. They felt heavily to the floor, but they both ignored it. Killian scooped her up and carried her to the soft pallet, cock swelling as she nibbled on his throat. “I hope you did not plan on leaving this room,” he groaned, kneeling by the bed.

“I am completely yours, Killian.” She pulled him with her as he laid her out, unwilling to part from him. His thigh slipped between hers, hands in her hair, mouths fused together in a sensual dance they knew well. Her skin tingled and sparked, itching for his hands on her. “Naked. Now.”

He chuckled, hands sliding under the silk. “Hmm. So eager, love.”

“Artemis gave us leave to celebrate,” she whispered. “Do you want to disobey a goddess?”

“Certainly not.” Her chiton was undone easily enough, pins tossed aside. Emma did the same to him, peeling the linen from his strong body. She fastened her lips to his skin, tasting him on her tongue. Pushing him onto his back, she shimmied out the silk and tossed it aside. Killian wove his fingers into her hair as she licked and nibbled on his flesh, licks of fire in her wake. “Emma, Emma, Emma.”

A jolt of lust shook her; she loved the way he said her name. “Love the way you taste.” She smiled up at him, then trailed her nose down his trembling belly. Eye level with his erect cock, she licked the length of it, earning her a deep moan. “May I?”

Killian smoothed his hand over her backside, pinching the cheeks. “Do I get a taste?”

She shivered; his mouth never failed to reduce her to a puddle of sensation. “How?”

He grinned lecherously. He loved showing her new things; she was such a willing student. He tapped her ass. “Just follow my lead, love.” He urged her to straddle his head, so she faced his chest. Emma moaned when his lips touched her inner thigh, hands braced on his chest.

“Oh gods.”

Killian chuckled, spreading her wide with his fingers. “So wet already, my greedy Princess.” He licked the length of her, holding her steady as she shuddered. “I've got you.”

Emma nodded, even though he couldn't see her. Her nails dug into his skin as she rolled her hips gently in his hold. The warm tongue on her sensitive flesh sent shivers up her spine. Mewls tumbled from her lips as he licked and nibbled on her, so lazy, just savoring her sweet nectar. “Oh, oh, oh!”

“Suck me,” Killian murmured, his voice muffled. “Please, Princess.”

She nodded, not really paying attention to what she was agreeing to. Emma forced her eyes open, her gaze alighting on the long thick cock in front of her. Wetting her lips, she slowly bent down, Killian's lips and hands continuing to stroke her. He rubbed her clit with his thumb, lapping at her entrance, occasionally penetrating her with his tongue. She keened, hips rocking, her body greedy for release. But he just continued to tease her. Emma forced her hair over her shoulder, positioning herself over his cock. She traced the fat vein on the underside of him with her tongue; Killian visibly shuddered under her. She'd only done this a couple of times, but she was quickly learning what he liked. Long slow licks of his rigid flesh, fingers fondling his balls, cool air on wet skin had him trembling in moments. Emma felt powerful as she took him into her mouth, eager to work him as he did her. She could feel herself getting wetter, giving into the sensations, the passion. Killian always made her feel like a goddess when he touched her; she wanted to give that back to him. She worshipped his cock, head bobbing, tongue swirling around the tip on every upward stroke.

Killian grit his teeth, focusing on her pleasure. He slid two fingers into her dripping hole, curling them to find the perfect spot. He knew he found when Emma jerked, moaning around his cock. “You're so hot, Emma,” he mumbled. “Can't wait to fuck this quim.”

She had to release him; it felt like she was melting, his honeyed words cutting to the heart of her. “Killian... _please.”_

He tapped her bottom. “Ride my fingers, love. Take what you need.”

She inhaled, bracing her hands on the pallet, hips rocking faster. Killian sucked her clit into his mouth and flicked it with his tongue, willing her to come. She shattered with a long wailing cry, bouncing on his long fingers as she rode it out. He savored every drop of her release, licking her tenderly as she panted above him. Emma whimpered when his fingers slipped from her; she was nowhere near sated. “Killian.”

He grinned; he loved seeing her like this, lazy and irresistibly sexy. He turned his head, tenderly kissing her inner thigh. She shivered and he scraped his scruff over the delicate skin. “My sweet lovely Emma.”

She hummed, shivering again. Emma forced herself up, slowly, muscles aching as she moved. Kneeling next to his chest, she bent down and kissed him, tasting herself on his tongue. Rough hands slid over her skin and she hummed happily. Her hum melted into an even happier cry of surprise as he wrapped his arms around her and flipped them so Emma was on her back. She giggled, pretending to struggle, but melting at their lips touched once more. “Killian!”

He chuckled, stealing kisses as he palmed her breasts. “Problem, my love?”

She rolled her eyes, hand sliding into his thick hair. “None at all. Just kiss me.”

He began at the corner of her lips, teasing her with butterfly kisses. Her legs spread effortlessly, allowing him so slip into the cradle of her thighs. They were content to lazily kiss and stroke, Killian working his way down her body, teasing her nipples, tenderly stroking her belly. “I love you.”

Her heart clenched, recalling his words to Athena, proclaiming without shame how much she and their child meant to him. Her lips trembled but she smiled down at him. “And I love _you_.” More giggles erupted as he surged forward, capturing her lips in a fierce kiss. She canted her hips against him, suddenly desperate for him to slide inside her. Killian still made her wait, hands playing over her skin, driving her wild. He loved the wide glassy look in her eyes as he maneuvered her legs the way he wanted them, together, hips turned to her left. He smiled down at her, testing her readiness with questing fingers. She whimpered, lip between her teeth. “Please.”

“Patience.” But even as he spoke, he positioned himself and slid home, sinking deeply into her warmth. They both groaned; he felt so large inside her, she clawed at him, desperate for him to _move._ Killian dipped his head to kiss her, slowly rolling his hips, grinding against her. “Ugh, so good, love.”

Emma held him close, moving with him, heightening their pleasure. They knew each other so well now, but it always felt new and different and amazing. “More, harder, _gods.”_

He braced his arms on either side of her, locking eyes with her as he gave her what she wanted. Emma gasped, arching, staring into the bottomless blue depths, love shining there. Pleasure rolled through her in waves, getting ever higher, building, building building. She could see Killian holding back, holding _on_ , determined to give her what she needed. Emma snaked a hand between her legs, flicking her finger rapidly over her clit. Her breathing hitched, inner muscles instantly starting to flutter. Killian grunted, biting hard on his lip, watching her eyes as she gave into her climax, feeling her shudder under him. Her pleasure spurred him on, taking her rougher, harder, deeper until he exploded, shooting his seed deep into her womb.

Emma caught him as he sagged, dragging her hands through his hair. They couldn't stay that way long; the awkward position of her hips was beginning to hurt. Killian seemed to sense her discomfort and moved, sliding off and helping her stretch out. “Apologies, love,” he whispered.

She hummed, shaking her head sleepily. “Don't,” she murmured. “I am fine.”

His lips brushed her sweaty brow sweetly. “Any aches?”

She looked curious, but guided his hands to her hips and belly. A low moan tumbled from her lips as he used those rough hands to gently massage her little twinges away. “Mmmmm.”

“Better?”

“Hmm, where were you after my last battle?”

“Unconscious, I think.”

That brought her up short. A wave of shame washed over her. How could she be so thoughtless? Her last battle was his as well. One where he'd been captured and carted off as a slave. “Apologies,” she said softly. “That was thoughtless of me.”

“I didn't even see the blow that knocked me out. One moment I was fighting for my life and the next everything was black.”

Emma touched his face, turning her body to snuggle into him. “Battles are always chaotic. I am thankful you made it here. Hera protected you, brought you to me.”

“You think so?”

She nodded. “You changed my life, Killian. Showed me that I am _more_ than just a warrior. I can not tell you what your love means to me.”

He hugged her close. “Perhaps next time we'll fight side by side.”

“I have dreamed of that,” she admitted. “Is that wrong of me?”

“If it was, I would be just as guilty. But we have our little one now. She'll be a warrior like her mother.”

She smiled. “And dedicated to Athena.”

“Hmm, that was inspired, my love.”

“You don't mind?”

“Mind my daughter dedicated to a favored goddess? Of course not.” His only regret was that he had not thought of it. He meant it when he said it was an inspired choice. And if Artemis was to be believed, they seemed to already have the favor of the gods. So much had to fall into place to bring them together this way, it could only be described as divine.

“Are you...afraid?”

He was quiet for a long moment. Was he afraid? Absolutely. Afraid that Emma could be taken from him. Afraid that they'd somehow lose their child. Afraid that he'd let Emma down somehow. But he also had faith. In her. In the love they shared. They could face anything as long as they were together. “Only a fool is not afraid, love.”

Emma whimpered, her throat closing up. How could he _know?_

“Emma? Did I say something wrong?”

She sucked in a ragged breath. “My mother used to say that to me. It's one of the few memories I have of her.”

“I'm so sorry, Princess.”

“No, I don't mind.” She sniffed. “It...makes me happy. She would want us to be together, to be happy, I think.”

“I hate what you are giving up,” he admitted.

“Giving up?”

He stroked her spine gently. “Do you really believe there is a place for us here?”

She sighed sadly. Regina would never allow Killian to stay with her, let alone allow him be a free man. Emma did not want to raise her daughter without him. Her own mother did not try to _change_ the ways of her people, choosing to flee, even though it ended in tragedy. “Do you think there could be a place for us in Sparta?”

“Far more likely than here. But I have no wish to take you from your home.”

Emma found his eyes, touched by the tenderness and guilt she saw there. “Then you can not leave me. This is my home, right here in your arms.”

Killian said a silent prayer to whoever was listening, even as he bent to kiss her. She moaned softly into his kiss, pulling him even closer, relishing the feeling of them skin to skin. She was so warm, so soft and pliant, the warrior shed to reveal the loving woman within. He loved her for both, for the trust she showed in revealing the hidden parts of her. He urged her to lay back, to relax, while he showed her just how much he adored her. Hands and lips and tongue stroking her most sensitive places, making her gasp and arch, arousal tingling under her skin, between her thighs. He paid special attention to her breasts, mercilessly teasing, sucking and twirling her nipples, grinning lecherously as she begged. She was stunning like this, nude and trembling, body supine and graceful in her desire. Easing her knees apart at last, he nosed her damp curls, inhaling her musky scent. He thoroughly enjoyed tasting her, their joint releases heady on his tongue. Licking her from back to front, he played with her clit, hands sliding under her bottom. Emma keened, hands fisting the silk, eyes rolling back in her head. It awed her every time, how incredible this felt, his talented mouth on her wet sensitive flesh. He tongued her until she saw stars, body bowing as she climaxed for a third time, her cries echoing off the stone. Killian grinned against her, gradually bringing her down, lapping up her copious release.

“Ugh,” she panted, her body sagging back into the pallet. “Gods.”

Tenderly, Killian kissed her hip. “So beautiful.”

She groaned again, not feeling very beautiful. Panting, covered in sweat, she could hardly keep her eyes open. “Sleepy.”

Killian crawled up beside her, feeling a bit smug. He did so love wearing her out. He licked his lips before pressing a kiss to hers. “Rest, sweet. I'm right here.”

She hummed, inching closer, lifting her head just enough to rest on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, humming an old soldier's song as she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

The next few days were as blissful as Emma could have imagined. Placing her trust in Artemis' promise, she and Killian enjoyed themselves, lounging and stargazing, whispering about the future, indulging their passion. Killian all too often found himself with his head resting on her belly, silently marveling at the life that was growing there. In the back of his mind, he knew it meant that he himself was safe in the eyes of Amazonian law, but that did not matter. His life would be meaningless if he lost Emma or their child. She called him her home; well, she was his. He missed Sparta, but this was where he belonged. As long as they were together and safe, he could live anywhere.

“Don't fall asleep on me, Spartan,” Emma teased, running her fingers through his hair. He'd allowed her to trim his dark locks and beard; she was surprised how much she enjoyed it. Then again, she loved any opportunity she got to touch him.

“I would not dream of it, Princess.” He surged forward and kissed her, flipping them on the chaise so she was draped across his chest. She sighed and nuzzled him, more relaxed than he could ever remember her. They were still there on the balcony when the servants brought the midday meal, not self conscious in the slightest. Once they were gone, Emma brought the food and wine out to them, wanting to enjoy more of the sun on their skin.

They laughed and teased, feeding each other, taking in the view. When he wasn't eating, Killian was running his fingers through her sun kissed tresses, encouraging her to relax, perhaps nap. He was a bit sleepy himself, the sun making him lazy and sluggish.

“Princess!”

Emma jumped, nearly asleep from Killian's magic touch. Who would just storm into her rooms? She turned, pushing herself up. “What is the meaning of this?”

Rapunzel looked apologetic, ducking her head. “Deepest apologies, Princess, but the Queen calls for you.” Emma noticed the shadow of a bruise on the young woman's cheek and a visible hand print on her bicep. Had Regina been rough with her again? Rapunzel was young, yes, but this felt excessive.

“Why?”

“I do not know, Princess. Only that I was sent to fetch you.”

Emma nodded, hiding her fear. Regina was eerily silent in the days since their visit to the temple; Emma had chosen to see that as a good sign, perhaps a sign that Artemis was protecting them. Now she wasn't so sure. “I will dress and meet you in a few moments. Wait for me.” Rapunzel recognized her dismissal and nodded curtly before she left.

Killian was behind Emma in a flash, wrapping his arms around her waist. “We must have faith,” he murmured.

“I have no idea what she could want. We've been performing our duties,” she said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Killian smiled into her hair. “It may have nothing to do with us. You are her family, head of the army. There's no reason to fret, my love.”

She turned, hugging him, drawing on his strength. The prospect of losing him never failed to strike fear into her heart. Knowing what happened to her parents did not alleviate her anxiety. She had to trust in Artemis, in her word to speak to Athena. Barring that, Emma would fight. She'd face down whoever was necessary to keep them together, damn the consequences.

“You should dress, the Queen awaits you.”

Emma placed a loving kiss over his heart, then found her silver peplos. She dressed quickly, pinning the material in place. Killian gave her an appreciative once over, his gaze warming her. He would be there when she returned. A swift kiss to his lips and she hurried off to find Rapunzel, who was waiting next to Mulan at the end of the hall. She fell into step with Emma, who kept her face impassive as they marched toward the throne room. Rapunzel offered no other details, likely didn't have them to give. Tucked away with Killian, Emma had little interest in the world outside her suite. She had no patience for politics or diplomacy in normal times; her life had never been _less_ normal than it was now.

She knelt the moment she entered. “You sent for me, my Queen?”

Regina looked up from a scroll. “Rise, Emma, and approach.” Her formal tone told Emma this was not a friendly familial visit. She straightened her back, squared her shoulders and stepped closer to the throne. To her surprise, there was a man standing at the foot of Regina's throne. Tall, dark hair, stubble, dressed in the armor of Troy, a scabbard empty at his hip. As a man, his weapon would have been taken before he was allowed to enter the Queen's presence. “We have a visitor from Troy.”

Emma nodded at the envoy. “Trojan.”

The Trojan's blue eyes traveled the length of her body; Emma had to fight not to recoil in disgust. “You are as beautiful as the stories say, Princess.”

“Careful, Trojan. For I am as _deadly_ as the stories say.” Silently cursing herself for not having a weapon, she glared daggers at the presumptuous Trojan.

“My niece shares my contempt for men, Trojan,” Regina said, smiling. Emma could see the menace there now; it frightened and shamed her. “I would watch your back.”

“Wise words, Queen,” the Trojan replied, bowing slightly in her direction.

“Why has he come?” Emma asked, hoping to speed this along as quickly as possible.

“My king was most chagrined to see his allies leave Troy,” the Trojan cut in. “I have been sent to ask the Queen to reconsider our alliance.”

“Did anyone give you permission to speak, Trojan?” Emma snapped. “Who are you?” She had met King Priam, respected the old man. He was not in direct control of Troy's armies; he left that duty to his son, the famous Hector.

The Trojan did not seem cowed in the slightest. “I am called August, Princess.”

“Troy's armies can not hold off an inferior gaggle of Greeks?”

August ducked his head, blue eyes turning sad. “We are in dire straits, Princess. Hector is dead.”

Emma blinked, stunned. Hector? Dead? How? He was one of the fiercest warriors she had ever seen, the pride of his king and people. His brother Paris had begun the war, winning Helen after awarding the golden apple to Aphrodite. Emma wondered if Hector ever resented that, but he never gave any sign the few times she had spoken to him. He did his duty, without fail. “How?”

August scowled. “The Greek, Achilles. Revenge for Hector killing his friend, Patroclus. The welp wore Achilles' armor! Hector believed it was Achilles himself.”

Emma tried to be sympathetic to August's clear anguish. But this was war, people died, even great heroes. Hector would have understood that. He was a great warrior and Emma said a silent prayer, hoping he was in Elysium where he surely belonged. “I fail to see how this affects us.”

August stepped closer, anger radiating off him. Had he been close to Hector? Emma did not remember him, but she'd only spoken to Hector a handful of times. “You took your army away, Princess,” he spat. “After vowing to be our allies. You abandoned us!”

Emma's anger flared; in a flash she ducked around the big man and drew a sword from a stand near Regina's throne. “Is that a challenge, Trojan?”

Regina stepped between them, brown eyes sparkling, clearly relishing the near violence. “Did I not warn you to control yourself, Trojan?”

August was struggling, visibly shaking. Priam should have been more careful in choosing his envoys; this one might not return. “You were not witness to the... _injustice_ , Queen. That filthy Greek _dragged_ Hector's body behind his chariot, all the way back to the Greek camp. He defiled my prince. My king had to _beg._ I helped sneak him into the Greek camp, where he pleaded for the return of his oldest son. The Greeks have no honor; they are little more than _animals._ ”

Emma breathed deeply, fighting to keep her face impassive. Her beloved was a Greek, a Spartan. He had not done those awful things to Hector; he was safely in her arms and had been for almost three weeks now. He could not be held responsible for what his countryman had done, nor could any of them.

“What would your king have us do?” Regina demanded. “I support Emma's decision to bring the Amazons home. Your war is petty and pointless, Trojan. We are in the middle of our Festival; tradition forbids us from making war during that time!”

“But we are desperate!”

“You can end this war easily, Trojan. Hand over the woman and the Greeks will leave you in peace.”

Regina advocating a peaceful solution? Emma was instantly wary. Of course, Regina _was_ right. Making war during the Festival went against the edict laid down by Hera; they would be risking her wrath if they disobeyed. As fond of violence as Regina was, not even she would risk the wrath of a goddess in that way. Not over a war that was of no real concern. Her first duty was to the Amazons.

“Helen is my princess. Honor demands...”

Emma stepped forward. “Helen was _stolen_ ,” she said firmly. “Stolen by a man, against her will. Where is the justice in that?”

“She married Prince Paris,” August argued. “Freely. She hates that Spartan king.”

“Have you ever asked her what she wanted? She's just property to you Trojans! In Sparta, she was _Queen_!”

Regina cocked her head at Emma curiously; Emma immediately feared she'd tipped her hand. “This is why we eschew the company of men,” Regina declared. “All of you are _animals_ , Trojan. Tell that to your king. We want no part of your war.”

“The Greeks will come for you next,” August warned.

“An we shall defeat them.” The Queen crumpled the scroll sent by Priam and threw it at August. “Now get out of my sight.”

August opened his mouth, then glanced at Emma's sword. Swallowing in defeat, he turned on his heel and left. Emma lowered her weapon, her ire at the man fading. She did not blame him for being upset at the loss of his prince. Or the vile way the body had been treated. But there was nothing the Amazons could do; this was not their fight.

“Quick to defend the Spartan Queen,” Regina observed coolly once August was gone.

“Is that not what we believe? That women are the betters of men, able to determine our own fate?”

Regina looked surprised, but proud. “Indeed. But this Hector...you knew him?”

“He was the leader of the Trojan army, my Queen. As our allies, I conferred with him in Priam's war councils.”

That seemed to satisfy Regina's curiosity. “The gods shall mete out the appropriate punishment for his killer; it is not our duty. Our only duty is to defend our own.”

“Then why go to the Trojans' aid in the first place?” It was something that had bothered her from the beginning. If Helen was being held against her will, why aid her captors?

Regina laughed. “I thought that was obvious, niece, as you are currently reaping the benefits of your army's labors!”

“You wanted us to bring back prisoners.”

“Really, Emma, your determination to avoid the Festival always worked against you. We've been at peace with our nearest neighbors for some time; the slaves had to come from somewhere.”

She felt nauseous. Emma had been so proud of her service, but now she saw the truth. There was no glory in condemning men to slavery. How had her mother done it after the loss of James? How had she participated in such a thing? Then Emma remembered. Regina led the army, under her sister. Had Snow abdicated _that_ duty to her more bloodthirsty sister? Was Regina's line of conquests even longer than Emma knew? She wanted so badly to believe that Snow had been faithful to James's memory, as Emma would be to Killian. She had no way to know.

“Emma? Are you listening to me?”

She gave herself a little shake. “Apologies. I was...saying a prayer for Hector.”

“Let Hades deal with him. You have your own duties to attend.” Then her face softened. “You did well with the Trojan, Emma. It is a lesson he will not soon forget. You will be a great Queen one day.”

Emma nodded, still feeling numb. “May I take the Spartan to the baths?”

Regina smiled. “Well, it seems this Festival has succeeded in making you a bit more selfish, niece. I approve. Yes, enjoy the time with your Spartan while you have it.”

Emma sheathed the borrowed sword and barely remembered to bow before leaving. She didn't run back to her suite, but it was close. She felt filthy, disgusting; she needed to bathe. She needed Killian's arms around her, provided, of course, that he didn't hate her. His eyes locked with hers the moment she entered, the worry and concern she saw there just made her feel more ashamed.

“Emma? What happened?” She shook her head, throwing herself into his arms. He was so confused, worried, but thankful she was with him again. Every time she saw Regina he feared she wouldn't come back, that the Queen would discover them and take her away. He rubbed her back, hoping she'd open up.

“Please do not hate me,” she mumbled, her voice muffled against his chest.

He frowned, brow knitting. “I could _never_ hate you, Emma. Tell me what has you so upset.”

Reluctantly, she raised her head. “There was a Trojan envoy. He wanted us to go back to Troy, but we can not even if we wished to.”

Killian stiffened, his hatred of the Trojans instinctive. Not to mention, Emma going back there would put her in harm's way and she was with child. _She can take care of herself,_ he reminded himself. “Did he hurt you?”

“No, but I did threaten him with a sword.”

“That's my Princess.” The poor man was probably shaking in his boots; even sans armor, Emma was formidable. He saw it every time they sparred. He loved watching her fight, marveling at her effortless grace and speed. “If not the Trojan, what has you so distraught?”

“Regina. It seems the only reason she honored our treaty with Troy was because we needed slaves for the ritual.” Emma shivered, once again feeling sick to her stomach. “And I helped her. I commanded we bring the prisoners back to Themiscyra, I did this to you. I made you a slave, Killian.” An anguished tear slid down her cheek. “Can you forgive me?”

Heart breaking, Killian kissed her tear away. He could not bear to see her in so much pain. “I forgave you the moment you saved my life, Emma. You can not change what you are, any more than I can. What matters is how we move forward, not the past.”

“I pray Athena sends us a sign soon. I can't...I do not think I can stay here. I want us both to be free.”

Killian cradled her head gently, holding her close. “We will, love. I believe that. Athena will answer our prayers.”

“And Artemis. She's watching over us.”

“Exactly.” He smiled down at her. “So no more tears, love.”

Emma tried to smile back, she still felt a little dirty. “I asked if we could go to the baths, together. But you don't have to.”

“Why would I not?” Her eyes flickered to the chains in the corner. “Ah. A small sacrifice to make you smile again.”

She did not know what she had done for the gods to honor her with his love and devotion, but she would not squander it, or take him for granted. Without a word, she kissed him in gratitude, then went to fetch the manacles. She placed them on his wrists, tucking the key away in her peplos. Mulan nodded discreetly as they left; Emma made a mental note to thank the guard at some point in the future. Aside from that first morning, she was a picture of discretion and Emma appreciated that.

The baths were not far from her suite; this time there was no Elsa in sight. In fact, no one was in the baths when they arrived. Artemis again? Emma produced the key to unchain him, smiling up at him as she did so. He cradled her cheek in his hand, thumb caressing her cheekbone. He let his hand drift down her neck, featherlight, willing her to relax. Her eyes drifted shut, basking in his hands on her body as he undressed her. The silk fell to the floor in a heap and he took her hands in his. “Come.”

Emma kept her eyes closed, allowing Killian to guide her to the warm bath. Water splashed as he stepped in, down the steps, slowly so he didn't slip. It had been _years_ since he'd taken a formal bath like this; the war necessitating bathing in the nearest river. It was heaven to feel solid stone under his feet rather than sluicing sand and dirt. “Careful, love,” he said softly, holding her hands in his.

Emma smiled as the water hit her skin, already feeling better. The water, whether the baths or the river, truly calmed and centered her. Combined with Killian's presence, peace seemed to wash over her in waves. She opened her eyes once they were submerged to the neck and Killian gently turned her so her back was to his chest. They sat back on the ledge, Killian idly stroking her belly. Silence reigned and she appreciated that he knew when all she needed was quiet. She let the warm water soak into her body, soothing her little aches, relaxing her troubled mind. Killian soothed her even more, massaging her with clever hands. She turned to putty in his hands but still turned and kissed him, thanking him without words. “Love you,” she whispered in his ear, mindful of prying ears.

“And I you, Princess,” he whispered back. “Ready to go to bed?”

She cocked her head. “You just want to bathe?”

He smiled at the twinkle in her eye, but nodded. “I truly am content just to hold you.” Then he smirked. “Tomorrow I will spend as much time as you wish making you scream my name, Princess.”

“I look forward to it, Spartan.”

* * *

Killian awoke early the next morning, pleased to discover Emma sleeping peacefully. He hated the emotional toll their situation was taking on her; she deserved better. He echoed her prayer that Athena sent them a sign quickly; the longer they remained in Themiscyra, the more danger they were in.

Emma stirred, her body instinctively sliding against his. He smirked down at her, forever marveling at how affectionate she was, even in sleep. “Hmmm.”

“Shhh,” he said, rubbing her back. “Sleep.”

Emma's eyes fluttered open, the green hazy but warm. “Early?”

“The sun is barely up, my love. Sleep.”

Her lips touched his pec, sending a shiver down his spine. “No.”

“No?”

Emma hummed, feeling the low rumble in his chest. She was just as attracted to him as ever, her body craving his. And he had a promise to keep. “No more sleeping.” She slid her hand seductively over his belly, along the thick trail of hair that led to his cock. Nails scratched along the V of his hips and he rewarded her with a groan. She licked the nipple closest to her, teasing it with her teeth; Killian visibly shuddered under her, cock hardening under the light blanket. Emma smiled up at him and kicked the blanket away so she could straddle his hips. She moved lazily, dragging her flesh over the hard ridge of him, her arousal building, getting slicker and slicker. Killian watched her with heavy lidded eyes, hands sliding up her thighs.

“So beautiful, love,” he murmured.

She smiled down at him, rising up and guiding him inside her. “Oh yes,” she gasped, loving the thick drag of him. His hands teased her, gliding over her body, belly, breasts, ass, as she rode him slowly. She covered his hands as he held her hips, fingers interlocking. She watched him watch _her_ , the way she stretched to take him in, the sensuous way she rolled her hips. It lit a fire in her, aroused her even more, her body reacting, moving faster, harder. She moaned, drawing his right hand over her clit. Together they stroked her swollen nub and she keened, climax tightening low in her belly.

“That's it, Princess. Come for me, let me see you.”

Her breathing hitched, heart pounding, blood rushing in her ears, then she was coming, the bubble bursting, back arching as Killian rubbed her through it. She sagged, hands on his chest, only able to hang on as Killian braced his feet on the pallet and thrust up, over and over and over, grunting her name as his own orgasm claimed him.

Her awareness was hazy, Killian easing her down to lay across his chest. She smiled into him, happily using him as a pillow. She listened as his heart returned to its normal rhythm, echoing her own. Killian kissed her temple, stroking her spine until she once more fell asleep in his arms. He drifted in and out himself, just listening to her breathe.

Scraping woke him again, the sun streaming in through a gap in the satin. Emma rolled off him at some point; she lay curled on her side facing away from him. Groaning, Killian sat up, scrubbing his hand over his face.

“Shhh,” a whispering female voice said. “You'll wake the Spartan!”

“So?” another voice said. Killian knew this one; it was the serving girl who kept staring at him whenever she was near.

“He's not chained,” her companion hissed. “Who knows what he'll do!”

“I am not afraid,” the girl said. “But leave if you are.”

“You know what happened to Hector. You want the Spartan to do that to you?”

“He can try. And he'll fail. We are _Amazons_ , you silly girl.”

Killian kept perfectly still, not knowing whether to be confused, offended or angry. Every Greek knew who Hector was; he was the great Trojan hero, oldest son to the king. Hector led the Trojan army; his strategies had been holding the Greeks at bay for years now. Had something happened to him? Was that why the Trojans sent an envoy to the Amazons? Why didn't Emma tell him this? Of course, she'd been upset for other reasons, but it was not like her to withhold information, not since their visit to the river. Did she _know_ Hector? It would make sense; she was commander of the Amazons, every bit as Hector was the Trojans. The moment the serving girls departed, Killian rose, wrapping himself in wool against the morning chill.

Emma woke to find her bed empty, her smile turning to a frown. Where was Killian? Even when he woke before her, he stayed, his sparkling blue eyes greeting her. Blinking away the lingering sleep, she saw a shadow on the balcony. It was chillier than she expected, so she draped the silk from the previous day around her before she followed him. “Killian?”

“What happened to Hector?”

She blinked, surprised. “Hector?”

“The servants seem to believe me complicit in his fate.”

Emma scowled. “That's ridiculous. You've been _here_ for almost a month!”

“Perhaps it's because I am Greek, Princess.” He turned to face her. “So I will ask again. What happened to Hector?”

His mood was difficult for her to read; he seemed distant and...hurt? She had no idea what she could have done to upset him thus. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Hector is dead. Killed by your Achilles, who then desecrated his corpse.”

Killian only had a vague notion who Achilles was; he'd heard rumors of a great feud between he and Agamemnon. As a Greek, he wasn't especially grieved at Hector's death, but desecrating a corpse was another matter. How could this Achilles be so stupid? “So every Greek is to be held responsible for the act of one man?”

“Of course not! How could you even think that?”

“Well, it is difficult not to when even the serving girls are quietly plotting to defend themselves from an unarmed man.”

Emma ground her teeth together. “It's that damned Trojan. I am certain he spread news of what happened to Hector through the palace, trying to conjure up sympathy. He knows we are in the middle of the Festival.” And he knew that the Amazons were harboring a selection of Greek slaves; he probably hoped to stir up trouble.

“Did you know him? Hector?”

Emma noted the way his eyes flashed, the stiff set to his shoulders. And suddenly his mood made sense. “Are you...jealous?” It both warmed her and amused her; Emma had taken very little notice of men before Killian. She respected Hector as a commander and a warrior but she never thought of him in a sexual way. Those feelings were reserved for Killian alone.

He scowled. “They say Hector was a great warrior, love. I know how you...appreciate that.” He was being stupid, he knew that. But if Hector meant nothing, why not tell all of her encounter with the Trojan envoy?

“He was. Something I am sure his _wife_ appreciated as well.” Emma stepped into Killian's space, hands on his chest. “If this bothers you so much, perhaps...you should prove yourself.” They hadn't sparred since discovering her pregnancy, but she felt fine. And she trusted Killian not to hurt her. She did so love watching him engaged in swordplay.

Killian swallowed, belatedly recalling her delicate condition. “Apologies, I did not mean...”

Emma pressed a finger to his lips and shook her head. “No, you opened this door, Spartan. Now we are going to walk through it. Together.”

He wanted to protest, to throw himself at her feet and apologize for his stupidity, but she was already moving. She uncovered their cache of practice swords and shields, her skin already beginning to tingle. Killian in battle was a thing of beauty; sparring with him never failed to turn her on. She smiled when he followed her, obediently dragging the low table to the side to give them space. His eyes remained lowered, even as she handed him the wooden sword and shield. “Emma...”

She touched his chin, raising his eyes. “Do not fail me, Spartan.” She hoped her love for him shined through, she needed him to know that she was his, heart, body and soul. No one could ever change that.

Killian gulped and nodded, still feeling foolish. But he could do this for her, accept her form of chastisement for his unwarranted jealousy. They stepped apart, standing at the ready. Emma's short nod was all the warning he got before she attacked. His arm came up automatically, parrying her thrust and swinging in a wide arc. Emma ducked and spun, hitting him in the back with her shield. Killian grunted and snarled, her fierce attack refocusing him. It had been far too long since he'd felt the rush of battle.

The dull clang of wood on wood echoed in the suite, low grunts and sharp cries as they parried and thrust, footwork quick and precise. Killian grunted as Emma's blunt wooden sword slashed across his thigh; she would have drawn blood with a real sword. He snarled and lunged, slashing across her chest, coming within a hairsbreath of her skin. She smiled at him, thrilled to see him taking his feelings out on her in this way. Sweat soaked through the cloth covering them, heat built in her core. She _loved_ this, watching his muscles ripple and flex under his tanned skin, the fire in his blue eyes. She did a neat little spin, hooking the tip of her sword under the wool and yanking it free. Killian smirked at her as it fell to the floor. “Careful, Princess.”

“Or what, Spartan?” She yelped as he attacked, charging her, jabbing to the left. Emma blocked his blow and spun, smacking his bare bottom with the wood. “I win.”

Killian laughed and tossed aside his weapons, kneeling before her in supplication. “You bested me, love.”

Emma shivered, lowering her sword and shield. She loosened the knot on her peplos, sighing as the smooth cloth glided over her damp skin. She stepped up to him, fingers weaving into his hair and guiding his lips to her belly. Killian took her cue, mouth sliding over her skin wetly, hot passionate kisses. Emma moaned softly, nails scraping over his scalp. “Are you willing to accept your punishment, Spartan?”

“Yes, Princess.”

She pushed him back onto his haunches, looping her leg over his shoulder. Killian needed no prompting, mouth on her sensitive flesh. She groaned, fingers tightening in his hair. He wasn't shy, lips and tongue devouring her, eager to please her, to atone for his irrational jealousy. She tasted sweet, clearly turned on by their activities. He held her firmly, hands kneading and squeezing the pert globes of her ass. The sharp tugs of his hair sent jolts of lust down his spine; he hoped she let him have her. He wanted nothing more than to be buried inside her tight wet sheath, driving her wild as he fucked her.

“Hmm, such a good boy,” she murmured, thrusting her hips against his face. “You love this, don't you?”

He answered her by redoubling his efforts, tongue plunging deeply in her. She shuddered, crying out, pressure coiling tighter and tighter. His scruff burned her inner thighs but she couldn't stop, riding his face, lost in pleasure. His lips moved to her clit, sucking _hard_ and Emma exploded, screaming incoherently. Killian greedily lapped at her release, drinking down every drop. He held her as she panted, lips brushing her reddened inner thighs. She surprised him when she moved, not only kneeling in front of him and kissing him senseless but rolling them onto the waiting pallet. It was almost too fast for him, but he could _feel_ her need for him, her passion. It was intoxicating that she needed him this much. “Tell me I can have you,” he growled against her lips. “Need to feel you, Princess.”

Emma canted her hips up, moaning as her already sensitive flesh rubbed against the hard shaft of his cock. “Take me, Spartan,” she panted, teeth nipping at his earlobe. “Get inside me. Now.”

Killian spread her legs wide, pressing her knees apart. She moaned at the dull wince of pain, back arching as he sank into her. “Ugh, so hot for me, love. Feels so good.”

Emma pulled his head down, capturing his lips in a sloppy needy kiss. “Just you,” she breathed. “Gods, I've only ever wanted you.”

Killian rolled his hips into her slowly, head falling down so he could watch himself slide in and out of her, claiming her. “I know, I _know_ , my love. Forgive me?”

She arched, hips meeting his stroke for stroke. “Just fuck me,” she pleaded. “Make me yours, Killian.”

He nodded, taking her deeper and harder, lowering his head to suck on her bouncing nipples. Another climax built higher and higher; Emma moaned, breathing coming in harsh pants. “Yes, yes, yes! So deep, Killian, _gods.”_

As much as he loved her stretched out under him, pleading for him, he was nowhere near done with her. His foolish outburst demanded he wring every drop of pleasure he could from her lithe beautiful form. He lowered his hand and rubbed her quickly, knowing precisely how to touch her, make her squeeze him so beautifully. Her nails dug deliciously into his back as she came again, walls rippling along his cock. He grit his teeth, willing himself to hold on. He gave her only a moment's respite, relishing her whine of complaint when he pulled out of her. “On your knees, Princess,” he growled in her ear.

Emma wet her lips, still breathing hard but obeyed his command. His tone made her shiver, eager to see what he would do to her next. She settled on her hands and knees, whimpering as he fondled and squeezed her ass. “Hmm, such a lovely arse,” he whispered bending over her. “And you love this, don't you?”

“Yes!” She pushed back, the tip of his cock rubbing her swollen flesh. “Gods, more. Please!”

A low groan tumbled from his lips as he sank inside her once more. He gripped her hips, holding her steady as he rode her. “Gods, love the way you feel around me, so tight, darling.”

She was so sensitive from her previous orgasms, but Killian knew her body too well, knew just how to stroke her. She couldn't get enough of his cock in her, making her feel full. She fell to her elbows, just relishing everything he did to her. “Fuck, touch me,” she pleaded. “Spank me!”

Killian slowed for a moment, wondering if he heard her correctly. When she pushed her hips back toward him, he heeded her, swatting the soft globe with his right hand. Her perfect pale skin turned faintly pink and he groaned. “Fuck.”

Emma didn't know exactly where her plea had come from, but she couldn't deny how good it felt. The first blush of pain melted into pleasure, making her even slicker. “Again, gods!”

He obeyed her, striking her, the crack echoing in the suite. They got so lost in their passion, his hand striking her flesh with every other drive of his hips, neither heard the commotion outside the entryway until the guard called out. “Princess? Are you alright?”

Emma hissed, annoyed at being interrupted. Killian paid the guard no attention, rocking into her steadily. “Answer her, love.”

She had to breathe deep; it was so difficult to focus when Killian was riding her so perfectly. “Fine!” she called, her voice sounding strained and breathy even to herself. Killian teased her with another swat to her ass, just because he could. “Get out!”

Feet scurried away and Emma moaned again. “Bastard,” she hissed.

Killian bent over her, chuckling. “Hmm, I think you liked that, Princess. You're so wet for me, taking me so deep. Can you feel it? Every bit of my cock?”

“Gods yes, so good, Killian. Don't stop.”

“Need to come, love. You feel so amazing. Can you give me one more? Just one more.”

Emma's back arched, taking him even deeper. “Fuck, hurry! So close!”

Killian grabbed her hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh, fucking her with abandon. He cried out as he finally let go, pulsing wetly inside her fluttering heat, groaning appreciatively as she screamed his name. Loud enough for their would be audience to hear. They both shuddered, panting harshly. Emma fell into the pallet, utterly spent. Killian was marginally better, rolling off her and holding her gently against his chest. He pressed breathless kisses to her skin, once again silently apologizing for his behavior.

Emma weakly grabbed his hand and brought it to her lips. “Love you.”

He kissed the back of her neck. “Love you. So much.” He laughed dryly. “So much I sometimes can not think straight.”

She forced herself to roll over so she could face him. “I think we both enjoyed your little jealous tiff.”

He smiled shyly. “I must confess it's not something with which I am familiar.”

“You are the only man I could ever love, Killian. Please know that.”

“I do. I was weak and I am sorry, Princess.”

She kissed the tip of his nose. “I think you have been sufficiently punished.”

“With an audience.”

Her cheeks colored. “I know we've been...loud? But that was different.”

Killian lightly touched her warm flesh. “Are you alright? I did not expect...that.”

“Nor did I. But I liked it.” She covered his hand with hers. “I crave your touch, Killian. Always.”

“Then I shall endeavor to please you.” He kissed her sweetly, fingers sinking into her golden tresses. “And now I think we should enjoy our feast.”

“And I can tell you everything that occurred with the envoy.”

“You don't have to.”

She touched his cheek. “We are partners, Killian. Equals in this room. We must be honest with each other. Completely.”

He hugged her close, touched by her love and faith in him. In them. His dearest wish was to be worthy of her love, to share a long life with his Princess. “Come, let us get you fed. We have the little one to think of now.”

She smiled at him, happy to see him happy once more. They could navigate this maze together, find a way to raise their family. They just had to have faith in Artemis and Athena. Surely their prayers would be answered soon.

 


	6. Chapter 6

“Come here, Spartan.”

Killian smirked to himself, pretending to be greatly put out. “If you insist, Princess.”

She hid her grin, eyes roving over his form. His skin glistened with drying sweat, muscles flexed and rippled. His chest still heaved from their recent sparring session; Emma herself was still catching her breath. A medium sized basin rested on the nearby stool, delivered by a blushing serving girl. Emma honestly couldn't blame the girl; Killian was a stunning physical specimen. She spent a lot of her time just admiring him as well.

Killian shivered under her gaze, loping into the room from the balcony. He allowed himself the same privilege, drinking in her curves. More than three weeks into their adventure, he was still in awe of her beauty. Emma stopped him with a gentle hand to his chest, nails scraping lightly over the coarse hair. Goosebumps erupted over his flesh, but he remained still, content to give her free reign over his body. Emma stood up on her toes and lapped at the hollow of his throat, reveling in the salty tang clinging to his skin. “Hmm.”

“Princess...” Arousal built in his loins, cock hardening as she touched him.

“Hold still.” She reached down, soaking a cloth in the cool water. Wringing it out, she brought it to his neck and shoulders, deftly cleansing his skin. His breathing hitched, memories flooding him; he loved these baths, the way she touched him. She squeezed excess water over his chest, her body reacting to the sight of the rivulets slide down his toned body. Unconsciously, she bit her lip, heat welling in her core. Killian lightly grasped her elbow, inching her closer to him. Emma licked at him, tongue swirling around his nipples, the cloth falling lower and lower. It was so tempting to toss the cloth aside and let him fuck her until neither could walk, but she wanted to enjoy this. There was a small voice in her head that said they didn't have much time, that they needed every good memory they could capture to get them through the trials ahead.

“Emma.”

She picked up the second cloth and pressed it into his hand. “Here.” He grinned lecherously down at her and dragged the rougher cloth over her pale skin, down the valley between her breasts. They used washing as the excuse to stroke and fondle, stealing slow sensuous kisses. She loved the rough way he touched her, trusting that she wouldn't break. He circled her nipples over and over and over until they tightened painfully, perfect for his hot mouth to suckle. Emma keened, arching, gripping his shoulders to maintain her balance.

“Want to lick every bit of you,” he mumbled into her skin.

“Fuck.”

“Been thinking about it all day, watching the way you move, “ he continued. “My lovely Princess.”

Emma lifted her leg over his hip, her fist squeezing more water down his back. Her wet flesh was tantalizingly close to his cock, so close, so hot and hard; her inner muscles clenched in anticipation. “Gods, touch me, Killian. Everywhere.”

“Hmm, you love that, don't you?” Killian ran wet kisses down her neck, tongue lapping at her pulse. “Surrendering to my touch.”

A pulse of lust shot through her; that idea, _surrender_ , made her heart race, her skin tingle. _“Yes.”_

Her voice dripped with barely restrained need, going right to his cock. “Tell me what you want, love.”

She clung to him, legs wrapping around his trim waist. She wet her lips, trying to get her mind to _think_ ; it was so hard when all she wanted was to _feel_. Then her gaze fell to the chains in the corner, the mark of Killian's slavery. Could _she_ wear them? How would that feel, to be trapped and utterly at his mercy? It made her feel wicked, wanting to see their positions truly reversed. “The chains,” she whispered in his ear. “Chain me.”

Killian raised his head, tipping her chin so he could see her eyes. They were heavy lidded with burning need but otherwise clear. “Are you certain?”

Emma nodded. “Yes.”

He kissed her hard, awed and turned on by the trust she was giving him. He hated those chains, hated what they represented, but perhaps this was a chance to change all that. “Get on your knees.”

She shivered hard and uncoiled her legs from his hips. The stone was hard but she knelt obediently. She watched him avidly as he got the manacles, turning them over in his hands. His blue gaze darkened almost imperceptibly, his movements slow and measured. He was every bit the strong Spartan she loved, the one man capable of handling her, her equal. Her breathing got shallow as he approached, the hairs rising on her arms. “Hold out your wrists.”

Emma sucked in a breath, her instincts making her hesitate. “Now, Princess. Or I will be forced to punish you.” Emma wet her lips, nostrils flaring. Not two days ago, she'd begged Killian to spank her, to strike her flesh and it felt incredible. She wondered if she wanted that again. Undecided, she held out her wrists, barely breathing as the metal rested on her skin. Each snap of the iron sent a shudder down her spine, warmth spreading across her skin. Killian watched her pupils dilate even more; he swallowed audibly. Her arms felt heavier now, the chain links swinging between her bound wrists. Watching her Spartan intently, she rested her hands on her thighs. He nodded in approval, cupping her cheek. “Beautiful.”

Her gaze roved over his body again, down his chest and abs, finally falling to his thick length. She could not help but wonder what he would do to her with it, given that she was bound and under his thrall. He caught her watching, curling his own hand around it, stroking slowly. Emma whimpered, already so hungry for him, so wet. “Killian...”

“Ah, ah, love.” He stepped closer. “Open.”

Emma swallowed, moving up on her knees and opening her mouth. Killian eased in slowly, groaning as her lips skimmed over his rigid flesh. She kept her eyes boldly on his as he thrust into her mouth shallowly. He sank his fingers into her golden hair, tongue darting out to wet his lips. Each thrust went deeper, her tongue teasing him so deliciously. “That's it, Princess. Suck.”

His low growl made her clit throb. She seemed to pounce, actively pulling on him now, aggressive with her lips and tongue, even grazing slightly with her teeth. Killian twisted his fingers deeper into her tresses, the knot building low at the base of his spine. She was exquisite, eyes green, wide, filled with lust, lips wet and pink around his cock. He let her play, enjoying the warm wet depths of her mouth. His princess was getting good at this, manipulating his flesh, making him tremble. He pulled away abruptly with a wet popping sound, a groan on his lips. “Hmm, well done.”

She smiled, allowing herself a little pride. It felt like there was an inferno between her thighs, the sweet ache begging to be satisfied. Killian dragged in the chaise, which caught her off guard. What was he planning?

Killian cast about the room for something to secure her, snagging the sash from the nearby curtain. “Up on the chaise, lay back.”

The chains clinked as she moved, which almost brought her up short. The weight was unfamiliar, the iron rough on her skin. She remembered how abraded and red Killian's wrists were after being chained for _days_ ; it gave her a new appreciation for his endurance and tolerance for pain. She'd experienced worse herself, but never like this. Never knowing she was restrained in some way. It was frightening and exciting, but she trusted Killian implicitly. Carefully, she laid back and Killian stalked around her like a cat, sash wrapped around his hand. Once he was out of her field of vision, his hand shot out, grabbing her by the chain and yanking her arms above her head. She choked on a surprised yelp, metal tinkling as Killian used the sash to tie her to the chaise. He did not leave much slack, and Emma's heart sped up. What was he going to do to her?

He let his fingertips graze down her arms, watching as goosebumps rose in his wake. Emma arched her neck, trying to see him, and got an eyeful of his glorious torso. She shivered, his touch getting rougher, palming her breasts. She whimpered as he twisted the nipples, a flash of pain melting into pleasure. “Ohhhh.”

“Mmm, such a naughty girl.” He smirked at her, covering her mouth with his. The kiss was upside down, but that just made it hotter and more passionate. Emma tried to push up, tongue in his mouth, needy sounds in her throat. She was brought up short by the sash and chains, her shoulders straining. “Easy, love.” He loved how much she seemed to be enjoying this, but he didn't want her to hurt herself.

Emma sagged back into the chaise, chest heaving. She wet her lips as she followed him with her eyes; Killian knelt the foot of the chaise and spread her knees. She felt exposed as her legs fell to either side of the seat, her soaking swollen flesh on display for him. Again, his calloused hands teased her flesh; her body felt hypersensitive, sparks tingling up and down her thighs. When his soft lips finally touched her flesh, she moaned, lip between her teeth. “Killian... _gods_.”

His thumbs inched higher, closer to her swollen core. “I've hardly begun touching you, Princess. Now _hold still_.”

The command in his voice drove her _crazy_ ; she breathed deeply, trying to heed him. It surprised her how much she _wanted_ to obey; it went against everything she'd been taught. However, Emma knew now that much of what she'd been taught was a lie. Or if not a _lie_ , grossly exaggerated. Right now, she needed more of his touch, all too willing to do what it took to get it. Killian rewarded her by spreading her legs even wider, lips and teeth leaving lovebites on her inner thighs. His thumbs spread her swollen wet flesh as he inhaled her unique musky scent. “Hmm, you smell so good, love. Nice and wet for me.” In fact, she was _dripping_ onto the chaise, as aroused as he'd ever seen her. He couldn't wait any more, tongue tasting her. He moaned against her; she was so sweet, so eager for his mouth. He teased her mercilessly, nibbling on her swollen lower lips, tongue flicking her clit. He rimmed her hole with a long finger, scraping the nail across the sensitive flesh over and over until she was shaking with need. Emma tried to keep still, she truly did, but it felt like she was on _fire_ , desperate for relief.

“Killian, Killian, _please_ , _please!”_

“Please what, Princess?”

Her hips canted up as he boldly sank three fingers into her sex; she was so wet, she took it all too easily. Rather than speak, she tried to fuck his fingers, but her position was too prone; there was no leverage. She screamed in frustration.

“Answer me, Emma.”

“Or what?” she shot back, hips still twitching. She need to _come_ , she needed him inside her, filling her up.

“Or I'll leave you here...unsatisfied.”

Her eyes widened in horror, body instantly going still. His fingers lightly stroked her, keeping her on edge as he waited for her to gauge his threat. Emma could just see his swollen erection, red and throbbing, resting against his stomach; surely he needed her just as badly? He would not _truly_ leave her in this state? Would he? She sucked in several shallow breaths, eyes locking with his. He looked deadly serious, like it would cost him _nothing_ to walk away from her, naked and wanting.

Killian watched her carefully, his own need barely restrained. He wondered if she could see it, the conflict in him. He needed to fuck her, to feel her lush willing body around him, but a dark part of him needed her to submit, to take his threat to leave her wanting seriously. It was a little cruel, but it would give her a tiny taste of what it felt like to be at a master's mercy.

“Killian?” Her voice sounded small, quite unlike herself.

“You know what you need to do.”

She sucked her lip into her mouth, silently debating. His fingers touched the most sensitive spot inside her, her whimper was automatic, her body shivering hard. When she still didn't answer, Killian arched a brow and began to slowly withdraw his hand. Panicked, Emma screamed. “Let me come!”

His roar of triumph echoed in the suite, his fingers quickly resumed their perfect stroking. He placed a tender kiss to her belly. “Good girl. Good girl.”

She mewled, a sense of calm washing over her as the coil tightened again. Killian's praise soaked into her skin, her found herself smiling as the peace she felt, submitting to his touch. In moments she was coming, coming _hard_ , her body bowing against the chaise. Killian groaned as she clamped on his fingers; he could only imagine how amazing it would feel when it was his cock. But he had no intention of going easy on his proud Princess. He pressed a soft kiss to her throbbing clit, then kissed his way higher up her body, wet needy kisses to her still trembling belly, tongue tracing the underside of her breasts. Emma was quickly overwhelmed with sensation; he just didn't let up, mouth hot on her skin. She mewled and whimpered, pain flashing in her wrists as she struggled against the manacles.

“Patience, sweet,” he said, steel in his voice. “Do not hurt yourself.”

She panted, body arching toward him; he was too much and not enough and she'd _never_ felt like this. Like she was coming apart at the seams, craving his body, his growling commands. Even though she'd _just_ orgasmed, she felt empty, incomplete, like she was missing a vital piece of herself. A piece only Killian could give her. It was almost like she'd been asleep before he came into her life and he woke her, bringing her to life. Everything just felt like it was _more_ now with him.

Killian grazed her tight nipples with his teeth, relishing her shiver. He soothed them with his tongue, sucking until the skin was tender. “Hmm, such a good girl, Princess. You are going to feel so good when I fuck you.”

She whimpered, inner muscles clenching, so needy for him. “Please? Gods, I need you inside me, your cock stretching me.”

He groaned, cock twitching at her words. He grazed her damp curls with his hand, thumb pulling back on the hood of her clit. “You are perfect, Princess. So hungry for me. Shall I make you come again? Taste your sweetness?” He began to lightly tease her clit; she moaned, head thrashing. “Or just ride you until you beg me to stop?”

“Yes! Anything! Fuck, just don't stop!”

He shuddered, in awe of the freedom she was giving him with her body, her pleasure. He would repay her trust somehow, prove he was worthy of her. “Up on your knees, love.” He tapped her hip playfully, surprised when she moaned softly. “Hmm, you like that.”

Emma was too overwhelmed to really pay attention, moving as he requested. Killian edged down to the very end to give her room to maneuver. He could not stop the groan when her round pert cheeks were bared to him. It was quickly becoming one of his favorite views of his lover. He kissed each cheek reverently, hands sliding up her thighs to squeeze. Emma propped her arms on the top bend of the chaise, the chain still dangling between them. She leaned back into his touch, a needy sigh escaping. “Oh yes.”

Hands on her hips, Killian moved up to his knees. He lightly stroked the small dimples in her back, lips trailing up her spine. “Hmm, so soft. Gods, I love touching you.” His cock settled in the crease of her ass, rutting against her. His right hand traced the curve of her breast and tweaked her nipple, making her hiss and moan. “You like when I am rough with you,” he muttered in her ear. “You need it. Don't you, Princess?”

She needed him to fuck her so badly, she didn't even think before speaking, terrified he'd take it from her. “Yes,” she panted. “Yes, please!”

He grinned, thoroughly enjoying her desperation. He gave her a teasing smack on her rump before spreading her, exposing her swollen cunt. She whined as he rubbed the belled tip of his cock against her, wiggling, hoping to force him to take her. He spanked her again, harder, ordering her to still without words. She complied, rewarded with the longed for stretch, Killian sinking inside her, all the way to the hilt. “Fuck,” he cursed, needing to stay still more for himself than for her. He knew how much Emma could take, but he'd been on edge for so long, her slick heat was enough to make him come.

Emma squirmed against his grip; she felt so _full_ , his long thick cock filling her completely. Her movement earned her another smack and she keened in ecstasy. _Finally_ , he moved, a slow withdraw followed by an equally slow penetration. He intended to savor her tight sheath, the pleasure that coursed through him as he watched his cock disappear in her.

“Ugh, so good,” she whimpered, hands clenching into fists. “Yes.”

Killian bent over her, moving his hips a little more forcefully, relishing her tiny moans. He kissed her shoulder, her neck; Emma turned her head, desperate for his kisses. He obliged her, mouth warm, wet, and sloppy on hers. “My Princess.”

She sucked on his lip, teeth scraping. “Gods, yours,” she agreed, chains rattling as she groped for more leverage. “Only yours.”

“Could spend eternity fucking you. So fucking good.”

“More, Killian, more!”

He thrust hard twice more before pulling out. She groaned in complaint, but bit her tongue as manhandled her around to her side. The sash caught, yanking her arms over her head again, reminding her of her surrender. She expected him to slide back in but he disappeared from her view, one of her legs over his shoulder. She screamed as he licked her, tongue fucking her slightly widened hole. Damp fingers played with her ass, touching her in an unfamiliar place. It was too much, too much sensation, and she exploded, climax coming over her in waves, leaving her breathless.

Killian leaned back, panting, fingers brushing his cock. He didn't want to overtax her, not in her condition, so he was patient, waiting until she was breathing more normally. He leaned over her and untied the sash, allowing her to lower her arms. Emma sighed in contentment; she was sure her shoulders would be sore when she could feel anything but amazing. Killian's lips found hers, kissing her sweetly, tenderly and she responded, aware that he kept putting off his own pleasure to give her everything she had not known she wanted. Her bound hands cupped his cheeks, the kiss turning more heated, more passionate. “Please, Killian. Use me. I know you need it. Take it.”

He straddled her thigh, lifting the other over his hip. “Stop me if I'm hurting you,” he whispered, sinking inside her again. Emma arched, hips canting forward, taking him even deeper. She grabbed his face and made him kiss her, their game fading away until all that was left was love and pleasure. Impossibly, another climax built inside her; Killian rubbed her clit as his own approached, begging her to come with him, to squeeze him so tight. He came just before her, emptying himself with a shudder and a groan of her name. Emma cried out, one final orgasm ripping through her, leaving her shaky and sweaty.

Killian recovered first, kissing her cheek tenderly before rising. Emma curled in on herself, so sated but so _tired_ ; she hardly noticed when Killian unlocked the cuffs and tossed them aside. He brushed his lips over the reddened skin, hoping she didn't regret her request later. She whimpered, inching toward him, nuzzling his chest. “I love you,” he whispered, lips skimming her temple.

Emma made a sound; everything felt sluggish and hazy. She couldn't recall a time when she was this sated, aside from their very first night together. Killian picked her up and took her to the pallet, smiling as she seemed to clutch at him. His thumb stroked her brow until she relaxed; he wanted to clean up a little before joining her for a nap. He took a discarded cloth and cleaned the dirt from his knees then hers. They'd probably need another basin later, a thought that made him chuckle. It didn't take long before his own fatigue took hold; he left the rest of the clean up for later. Emma hummed happily the moment he joined her, curling up against him. He held her close, rubbing her back even though she was already asleep. The soothing movement lulled him to sleep, content in the knowledge that his Princess was loved and safe.

* * *

Everything was dark. Not the kind of dark that lent shadows, vague shapes to help guide. This was utter blackness. Killian breathed deeply, forcing down the panic. Where was Emma? Was she alright? He reached out blindly, groping, but there was nothing but air. If she were lost or hurt, he would never forgive himself. With each moment that passed, bile rose in his throat, heart racing wildly.

Fire flared to life, blinding him. Killian cried out, arm thrown over his face. He blinked furiously, trying to figure what exactly was happening. He had no weapons to defend himself. His training kicked in, long hours sparring with his brother hand to hand, as he braced himself, hands held out in front of him. “Show yourself, demon!”

A light feminine laugh took him off guard. He growled in frustration, his eyes finally adjusting. He was in a temple, one he knew well. It was Athena's temple. In Sparta. He felt a lurch of homesickness, knowing that it had to be an illusion of some kind, a trick. He was dressed in gray chiton; there was a sword strapped to his hip. He swore it had not been there a few moments ago. He drew it carefully, curious if it too was a trick. It felt real enough.

A tinkling sound got his attention. “Who's there?”

“Stand down, Spartan. I mean you no harm.”

He refused to sheathe his sword. “I am sure you'll forgive me if I need more proof than a voice belonging to someone I can not see.”

“A wise choice, Spartan. I can see why she favors you.”

“Who? Where's Emma?”

“Perfectly fine, right where you left her.”

Killian frowned, more confused than ever. He looked around the temple; everything was exactly as he remembered it. Unlike in Themiscyra, Athena's statue was decidedly more warlike, her spear pointed outward, her shield raised in defense. This was not a goddess in repose, this was one of action, ready to slay her enemies, much like Sparta herself.

“You are safe here, Killian. But we do not have much time.”

That got his attention. He finally realized where the voice was coming from and turned, finding a tall woman in white standing behind him. He gaped at her, taking in the calm beauty, brown eyes, auburn hair, and gentle smile. She carried no weapons, but there was an aura about her that commanded respect. Her identity struck him like a thunderbolt and he knelt hastily.

“Lady Athena.”

There was her soft laugh again and he frowned. Was he comical to her? Why was she here? For that matter, _where_ were they?

Athena admired his dark good looks; a virgin she may be, but she could admire male beauty when she saw it. Deftly, she ran her fingers through his thick locks. Killian didn't breathe, unsure of what he should do. “Rise, Spartan.”

He backed up, using the sword to right himself. “Lady?”

She blushed. “Apologies, it is very easy to see why your Amazon is drawn to you.”

“As I am drawn to her.”

“Quite so. You certainly made an impression on my sister. She was most insistent that I find a way to answer your prayer.”

“Lady Artemis is very kind.” Deciding he was as safe as he could be, he sheathed the sword and waited. “Emma admires her greatly.”

“She's also stubborn and willful, indulging Apollo even when he doesn't deserve it.” She knew about Orion; all the gods knew. Her father Zeus had done what he could, putting the hunter in the heavens. Artemis was as devastated as Athena had ever seen her, a surprise in and of itself. Artemis valued her independence above all else. Not unlike Killian's Amazon. “That said, this war is causing its own problems.”

“It is?”

“Why do you think we are meeting here and not in person?”

Killian cocked a brow. “If I may be so bold... _where_ is here?”

“I chose a place that was familiar so as not to startle you. But this, faithful Spartan, is a dream. You are back in bed with your Amazon. And also here with me.”

“How is that possible?”

“I _am_ a goddess, you know.”

“Apologies, Lady.”

“No, your...forthrightness is actually quite refreshing. Too many of your kind are a bit _too_ reverent for my taste.” Killian did not quite understand that—were the gods not to be venerated?—so he kept quiet. “As I was saying, with the war it is not...prudent for me to show myself in Amazon territory. They are supporting the Trojans.”

“That alliance seems to be one sided now,” Killian countered. “The Queen sent the envoy on his way.”

“Did she? Perhaps, but I doubt the Queen of the Amazons merely allowed a handsome man to leave her realm without some...private consultation. Especially since she's been deprived of her prize.” Athena looked at Killian pointedly. It took him a moment then he shuddered in revulsion. _He_ was supposed to be Regina's prize. From what he knew of Regina, Athena was most likely correct. Once again, he was so thankful Emma had saved his life.

“Does that shock you, Spartan?”

Killian shook his head. “Emma has said the Queen is a woman of many...appetites.”

Athena wrinkled her nose in distaste. “That's a most...diplomatic way of putting it. But as I'm sure you've surmised, the Queen's proclivities put you in grave danger.”

“Emma is with child. Artemis said so.”

“And my sister speaks true. However, I'm sure you would agree that a threat to Emma or your child is a threat to you as well?”

“I'll kill anyone who threatens my family.” He said it without thinking, his instinct _always_ to protect those he loved. He and Liam did that all their lives, looking out for each other, especially in light of having no other family. He'd rather spend eternity in Tartarus than abandon Emma or their daughter.

“An admirable sentiment. I have no doubt that you would fight valiantly, Killian. But there are times when discretion is the better part of valor, wouldn't you agree?”

“Discretion? What do you mean?”

“Is it still your wish to leave Themiscyra? Find a place where you and your Amazon can live in peace?” Killian nodded fervently. Athena spoke of nameless threats, but Killian suspected Regina was their biggest obstacle. He wanted to get Emma as far from her aunt as possible. All they'd been waiting for was a sign. Now Athena was answering their prayer. “There is an island in the Aegean...” The goddess went on to describe it, a place where other Amazons had traveled, having committed the cardinal sin of falling in love. It was the miracle they'd been looking for. So naturally it sounded too good to be true, goddess or no.

“A legend? I should risk everything I love for a _legend?”_

Athena would be offended if an average mortal spoke to her in such a manner. But this was a Spartan, wise and strategic in war, one of her most faithful servants. He and his Amazon had placed their unborn child under her protection. Emma abandoning her sisters would weaken the Amazons long term, which as a supporter of everything Greek was in Athena's favor. The Amazons turned their backs on her in their alliance with Troy; this was Athena's chance for justice. “You would question your patron?”

Killian stood his ground, lifting his chin. “I have the safety of those dearest to me at stake, Lady. It would be irresponsible _not_ to question something that looks too good to be true.”

Athena smiled, a wide brilliant smile. She liked this mortal. “Think about it, Spartan. Would it be in the Amazons' interest to record the existence of such a place? When their entire society is devoted to the superiority of women? A society where love is forbidden?”

Killian considered that. Athena was right. Emma's mother wanted to flee with her mate, James, but they had not had a destination in mind. Snow even believed she was the first. If Athena's island was real, there _were_ other Amazons who'd forsaken the ways of their people to stay with their lovers. It was oddly comforting, the idea that they were not alone. “Very well. The next moon is in five days. That does not give us much time.”

“That, I'm afraid, is partly my fault. I meant to come sooner, but I was forced to mediate another squabble among my siblings. This war must end soon, before we destroy each other.”

Killian did not ask if that was possible; he was speaking to a goddess from the relative safety of a dream. It was not his place to question the doings of gods. “So what do we do?”

Athena looked thoughtful but confident. “I can not directly interfere; the alliance between the Amazons and the Trojans has limited my power in this land. However, I can give you tools to aid your escape. Once you reach the coast, you will be under my protection. If the bond with your Amazon is as strong as you believe, then I have faith you will succeed.”

It was not as much as he hoped for, but then this was Athena's way. To give mortals the tools to help themselves. There was no reason he and Emma should be any different. He believed in their love, that it was strong enough to see them through the challenges to come. Killian nodded respectfully and knelt once more. “I... _we_ can not thank you enough for your benevolence and generosity, Lady. Our child has a kind and magnanimous patron.”

Athena touched the thick dark hair once more. “Go with my blessing, Spartan. When the time is right, I will be glad to show your daughter my favor.”

Killian closed his eyes...and awakened in Emma's suite. The sun hovered on the edge of the horizon; they'd slept most of the afternoon away. Emma lay curled in his arms, still soundly slumbering. He brushed his lips lightly to the crown of her head, her presence a comfort after the disorienting dream. Had it been real? It felt real, but he'd had those kinds of dreams before. Dreams of Liam alive and well haunted him for months after his brother's untimely death. It came back to him slowly, Athena's temple in Sparta, the goddess herself...the island in the Aegean. A place where they could be equals, far from the strict ways of their respective peoples. Was that the best choice? Even if they could get to Sparta, Emma could not fully be herself. Spartan women could not go to war. Having seen the Amazons in action, he knew without doubt that women were just as capable as men in war. Emma could best the best of Sparta's warriors; it was one of his favorite things about her. He was not put off by her prowess; indeed, it excited him.

Perhaps later they could visit his home, pray at Athena's temple there. But not for some time. It saddened him, but Emma was more important. She was his home now, she and their daughter. He allowed his hand to rest on her flat belly, saying a silent prayer for the child that grew within. Yes, a daughter in her mother's image, dedicated to Athena pleased him very much.

Emma gradually rose to consciousness, a tender touch on her stomach. She hummed, eyes fluttering open, and snuggled closer to the warm body beside her. She felt hazy and sleepy still; there was some soreness in her shoulders and back. The corner of her lips quirked up in a half smile, recalling just how she'd gotten that way. Toe curling pleasure with her lover was always welcome.

Killian sensed she was awake; he rolled them so she could lay sprawled on top of him. Emma obliged by nuzzling his chest, enjoying all the skin to skin contact. “Hmm.”

“Alright, love?”

Emma sighed, his large hands lightly rubbing her back. “Mmhmm, that feels good.”

“Sore?” There was time to tell her all about his dream, his encounter with a goddess. Emma's well being was more important.

“A little. Shoulders.”

He kissed her temple, amused by her short answers. “My princess has earned a massage, I think.”

Emma shook her head, squeezing his torso. “Later.”

“It's getting late, darling. And there is something we need to talk about.”

Reluctantly, she raised her head, blinking away her fatigue. “What? What's going on?” He seemed calm, but she was ever cognizant of how perilous their future was.

Killian stroked her lower back soothingly. “I believe I had an encounter with Athena.”

Emma pushed herself up, brows knitting. “Athena? Where? When?”

“In my dream. I swear to you, she was there.”

Her heart raced, hope surging in her chest. Was Athena answering their prayer at last? “What did she say? Is she going to help us?”

Killian thought it best to have this conversation in a slightly less prone position. He eased Emma off him and quickly sat up, ignoring her protest as he maneuvered her into a sitting position. He moved behind her and began to give her the massage he promised. Emma relaxed as he told her the tale, the surreal experience of conversing with a goddess. Emma understood; however jealously flared when he described Athena touching him. She did not do a very good job of hiding it, hands balling into fists.

Killian chuckled. “Possessive, aren't you, Princess?”

She turned her head, scowling. “Is that a problem, Spartan?”

He bent to kiss her, teasing her with a hint of passion. “I only want you, my love.”

“Was she beautiful?”

“Perhaps. However, I prefer my women to have a little more...fire and passion.”

“Is that right?”

He grinned at the mischievous look in her eye. “Indeed. Such as...an Amazonian princess?”

She moved, turning and rising on her knees. Killian was still taller than her, but she did not mind the way he hovered over her. She was drawn to his innate masculinity. Hands slid up over his torso; she smiled when he shivered. “A princess rather than a goddess?”

Killian brought her hand to his hardening cock, urging her to stroke him. “Always.” He groaned as she kept her touch strong and steady. “Everything I am is yours.”

She curled her free hand around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. He cupped her face, his kiss sending waves of lust down her spine. She simply could not get enough of him, his touch, his voice, his body, the way he loved her. The faint soreness was forgotten as he manipulated her body, strong hands tracing her curves, mouth hot and wet on her still tender nipples. Heat pulsed in her core, her body eager to have him inside her once more, claiming her as his own. “Killian...”

They needed to talk but his desire for her was too great to be denied. He slipped a hand between her thighs, groaning at how slick he found her. “Again, Emma?”

“Please. Gods, I need to feel you, the way you move inside me.”

He shuddered, her words ratcheting up his own need. “Fuck, I love you.” He broke away from her and lay on his back. Emma moved to straddle him but he shook his head. “Other way, darling.” She bit her lip but did as he asked. “Just do what feels good,” he whispered, one hand on her hip to guide her, the other aligning his cock with her dripping hole. She gasped at the sharp penetration; he felt so _big_ like this, and her Spartan was already large.

“Oh _gods_ ,” Emma hissed. “So fucking good, so big.”

“Ride me, sweet.” His voice was strained; she always felt so good around him, tight around his cock, stroking him so perfectly. His feet rested on the edge of the platform, giving him little leverage.

Emma nodded hard, bracing her hands on his knees, slowly undulating her hips. She knew his body well now, knew how fast she could go, how deeply she could take him. She relished swallowing his cock whole, the drag of him inside her. “Yes, yes, yes,” she murmured, over and over, his cock hitting all the right spots.

Killian lifted his hips slightly on every drive of hers, his hands fondling her ass. “Ugh, that's it. Don't stop.”

She leaned forward, hips moving faster, grinding herself onto him. Her climax was so close, the angle just too much for her. Killian kept squeezing, lightly smacking her cheeks, encouraging her to come, to just let go. Her back arched as she hit her peak, bouncing quickly on his cock, the hard ridge rubbing her perfectly. “Fuck!”

Killian grit his teeth, not wanting to let her go just yet. He pushed himself up and slipped his arm around her waist. He laid them back, Emma breathing hard as he held her against his chest, cock still stroking her hypersensitive flesh. She whimpered, body still trembling from her first orgasm, but this was what she craved, Killian overwhelming her with sensation, making her forget everything but them and how much they loved each other. He palmed her breasts, hips slowing just a little to let her recover. “You feel so good, Princess. Love touching you.”

She covered his hands with hers, gradually winding her up again, rubbing and pinching her nipples. “Yes, Killian, gods yes.”

One hand slid down her belly, fingers groping for her slick flesh. She keened when he found her clit, her too aroused body already trembling. “Mine,” he hissed in her ear.

She squeezed the hand she held in hers, spreading her legs further so he could take her more fully. “Mine,” she declared. They belonged to each other, forever.

“Yes, yes,” he agreed, finally giving his desire free reign, rutting up into her, finger flicking her swollen nub, willing her to come again. The moment she began to flutter around him he exploded, filling her with his seed as she milked him dry, her whole body shaking. He held her close, her weight almost nothing against him. He whispered breathless praise in her ear, arms tightening around her middle.

She felt boneless, sated, even a little sleepy. But she forced herself to stay awake; they had been talking about something serious before they got distracted. If only she could remember what it was.

Killian rolled them onto their sides, cock slipping from her as he softened. He buried his nose in her hair, mind blissfully blank. They were still like that when a pair of servants came in to deliver the evening meal, but neither lover moved. Once the young girls were gone, Killian kissed Emma's bare shoulder. “Hungry, love?”

She groaned, finally stretching out against him. “Yes, actually.” Their lovemaking was always intense and they'd sparred earlier. She was famished. “Talk too?”

“Unless you absolutely have to have me again, sweet.”

She smiled lazily, turning in his arms. “Someone touched what's mine.”

“Careful, you might offend our patron,” he teased.

“I'll pray for forgiveness.” She pressed her lips to his, enjoying the feel of his lips. “I love you.”

“As I love you, Emma.” He thumbed her cheek. “Come, let us enjoy our meal and I will tell you all about Athena.”

They found some clean linen, covering their nudity. It was getting a little chilly in the evenings, after sunset. Emma went around lightening more candles, an unfamiliar lump getting her attention. She knelt by the shadowy corner, lifting a grubby gray cloth. A long length of rope lay coiled neatly alongside a scroll, neither of which Emma has ever seen before. She picked them up and brought them to the low table. “Killian, where did these come from?”

He looked up from the plate he was preparing, his eyes going wide. Athena's sign. His dream had been _real_. The goddess promised to leave them with tools and here they were. He took the proffered rope; it felt real, good and sturdy. “Athena,” he said, voice awed. “Emma, these are from Athena.”

“What are we supposed to do with rope and a scroll?”

Killian urged her to sit with him, plucking the scroll from her hand. “The goddess told me of an island, Emma. An island in the Aegean where we can live, where we can live as we choose.”

“There is such a place?” It was what she'd prayed for, a place where they could just be, love each other and raise their family.

“Porphyris, near Crete. Athena said that other Amazons have traveled there with their mates.”

She frowned. “No. I would have known about such a place. My _mother_ would have known!”

“Emma, I questioned Athena on this. I would never take you somewhere that would not be safe for us. For our child.” He rubbed her belly. “Your safety is the most important thing to me.”

“Being safe is worthless unless you're with me, with us.” She never got to meet her father because he'd been murdered. Emma refused to let her daughter suffer the same fate.

He kissed her cheek. “Athena seems to agree with you, love.” He smiled, more and more of the dream coming back to him, now that he knew without a doubt it was real. “I promise I will do everything I can to stay with you. I want to see our baby grow, be the father I never had. Perhaps even have more children.”

Emma smiled. “Well, we did come by the first rather quickly.”

He laughed. “That was the idea, was it not?”

She smiled too, but turned to look at him. “I would have loved you anyway. I think I always did. Child or not. This just feels right.”

He nuzzled her neck. “I understand completely. My heart was lost to you long before I knew your name.”

She cupped his cheek and kissed him sweetly. It was a revelation to her, how much she loved the affection they shared. She'd been deprived of affection for most of her life, ever since her mother's death. She didn't know how much she missed it until it was back in her life. Killian's embrace was her favorite place to be. “So Porphyris?”

“It seems like the best choice, love. I would love to take you to Sparta, but you could not truly be yourself there. You could not fight, nor train our daughter.”

She frowned, knowing just how much Killian missed Sparta. “You would give up your home for me?”

“You're giving up yours,” he reminded her. “I could return to Sparta, marry a Spartan woman and sire sons. It would be expected of me. But I want _you_. I want daughters. I want sons. I want a little girl who idolizes her mother and wants to be just like her. Brave and strong and a fearsome warrior. You've shown me what is _possible,_ Emma. A brilliant future with the woman I love.”

Tears stung her eyes; the passion with which he spoke made her heart clench. She could not describe how much she loved this man, just how completely he had changed her life. “Thank you,” she said softly, a single tear sliding down her cheek.

“For what?”

She cupped his scruffy cheek. “For loving me as I am. For giving me our child. For so much more than I can say.”

He turned, kissing her palm. “We are blessed by the gods. If other Amazons can find a safe haven, so can we. I believe that. I believe in us.”

She sighed, leaning her forehead against his. They were quiet for a long time, just holding each other. Until her stomach grumbled in complaint. “I think our daughter is hungry.”

“Then I will take great joy in feeding her and her beautiful mother.” Emma giggled as he did just that, feeding her by hand from his own plate. She was not idle, making sure he ate as well. They put aside the questions and plans that must be made, hoping to simply enjoy the quiet moment.

* * *

Emma slipped from her suite, silver chiton wrapped around her. She nodded at Rapunzel when she passed; the girl seemed a bit skittish, eyes darting around nervously. She wanted to stop and speak to her but there wasn't time. Killian was waiting.

They spent much of the previous night talking, discussing what was the best use for the tools Athena had gifted them. The scroll, as it happened, was a crude map to Porphyris. It was now hidden away safely with her mother's letter, only to be retrieved when they were ready to flee. As they talked, Emma realized how shortsighted her earlier plan to free Killian had been. No food, no water, no shelter. In her haste to give him his freedom, she'd nearly condemned him to a dangerous journey without basic means of survival. That part of Anatolia could be harsh and barren away from the river; the Amazons themselves had to work hard to till the land.

Now that Emma was with child, it was even more imperative that they have supplies to get them to the coast. Only then would they be under Athena's protection. She said a silent prayer to Artemis, hoping the goddess could protect them for their final few days in Themiscyra. The moment they had enough food and clothing secreted away, they would escape. The end of the ritual was fast approaching; Emma wished to be far away before then.

There were few people about at that time of night; she had little trouble exiting the palace and finding her way to the patch of woods below the balcony to her suite. If Emma carried wrapped food and clothing from her rooms, she would be noticed, but Killian had the idea of salting away portions of their meals and lowering them to the ground below, where Emma could then hide them. She waited in the dark, a rhythmic tapping telling her that Killian was waiting. She whistled back and waited as the dark shape of her package was lowered over the edge. The moon was waxing, getting ever larger; it felt like a noose, telling her that their time was short and getting shorter every night.

The package hung in front of her; Emma quickly untied it and tugged on the rope so Killian could haul it back up. She ducked into the woods, having memorized the route to their hiding place. Not daring a torch, she found the small stash of non-perishable foodstuffs in the hollow log she'd discovered. One or two more days and they would have enough. The river would take them to the coast, a two day journey. She spent much of the previous afternoon down at her secret spot, building them a raft. Killian had wanted to accompany her, but she pointed out that him constantly leaving her suite would arouse suspicion.

Her trip back to the palace was equally uneventful; with the end of the ritual approaching, most of the Chosen were tucked away with their mates. Emma did not want to think about what Killian had told her about Regina, her aunt most likely using poor August before she would send him on his way. Just thinking about her aunt made her sick.

Rapunzel gave her a nod as she approached and Emma finally took the chance to really focus on the younger girl. Her facial bruise had mostly faded but the angry red mark on her arm was healing more slowly. Had Regina punished her the encounter outside Emma's suite? “Rapunzel?”

The blonde looked wary. “Yes, Princess?”

“Are you well? That looks nasty.”

Rapunzel did not look at her injury, kept her eyes front. “A scratch. It does not interfere with my duties.”

Emma frowned. “That is not what I asked.” She stepped closer. “Rapunzel, did the Queen do this to you?”

Unmistakable fear shown in her green eyes. “A poor training session, milady.”

Emma cocked a credulous brow. “I know of no training that leads to that kind of injury. However, if you do not want to confide in me, I understand.” These were still her people; she still cared. She felt a stab of guilt, possibly leaving Amazons like Rapunzel at Regina's mercy. However, it was not just her safety at stake. She had her unborn child to consider. Reluctantly, she started down the hall, guilt weighing her down.

“Princess?”

“Yes?”

Rapunzel appeared scared but more determined. “It was the Queen. She believes I was lax in my duties as guard. She...punished me.”

“Did she do anything else?”

“No, milady.”

She considered for a moment; they still had some of the salve in her suite. Killian used a small bit on her reddened wrists after his dream of Athena; little more than a day later her skin was close to flawless. “Come with me.”

“I'm supposed to guard...”

“And you will be guarding. But I want to tend your arm. It will only take a moment.” Rapunzel seemed to vacillate for a minute before following. Killian waited for her on the chaise out on the balcony, a woolen chiton pinned at his shoulder. He looked to her the moment she came in. Emma waved her hand back to indicate that they had a visitor. “Killian, this is Rapunzel. Do you remember her?”

Killian stood, nodding. The young Amazon seemed more diffident than the last time he saw her. Although confronted with Regina's wrath would be enough to cow even the stoutest heart, he supposed. “Hello, milady.”

“Spartan.”

Emma nodded to Killian. “Do we have a bit of the salve left? I'd like to tend her bruise.”

“One moment, love.” He went to fetch it, leaving Emma to soothe their guest. Rapunzel had the look of a woman questioning her choices, on the verge of fleeing.

“Relax, Rapunzel. You're safe here.”

“Apologies, Princess. I am not myself.”

“The Queen can be cruel. You did nothing wrong, do you understand that?”

“The Queen...”

Emma touched her arm. “The Queen was upset with me, not you. I am sorry you were caught in the middle. Let us help you.”

“And the Spartan?”

Emma smiled. “Killian is a good man. I do not regret saving his life.” That much was true. She did not want to say more, since Rapunzel was already under Regina's observation. It was too big a risk; she would not gamble with Killian's life. Not to someone already in fear of Regina. Killian returned with the bowl of salve and retreated, giving them two Amazons some quiet. Carefully, Emma dipped her fingers into the bowl and brought a dollop of the salve to Rapunzel's bruised arm. “There. It should heal much faster now.”

Gratitude shone in Rapunzel's eyes. “Thank you, milady. This is very kind.”

“Being an Amazon does not mean you are impervious to pain, Rapunzel. It is your duty to take care of yourself.”

“Yes, milady.”

“Return to your post. I'll check on you before your replacement arrives.” Rapunzel nodded and left, hurrying back to her post. Hopefully, no one would notice she had been missing for those few minutes.

“Is the young one going to be okay?”

Emma stepped into Killian's arms, needing his comfort. “Physically, I believe so. Her bruises will heal. Her mind...she's frightened. Regina did that to her because of us.”

Killian held her close. “Regina is evil, Emma. You were just trying to protect me from prying eyes, you had no idea she would come. You can not anticipate everything, plan for every contingency. We must simply do the best we can.”

“She's my only family. Blood family,” she corrected. Killian was her family, her home. Still, there was a part of her that rebelled against outright hating Regina. “If she is truly evil, how can I leave my people?”

His heart broke for her. It was not an easy choice; he knew that. He did not carry the responsibilities that she did, but in fleeing to Porphyris he, too, was turning his back on his people. “Has Regina done anything like this before? As much as I hate to consider it, her recent behavior may only be directed at you.”

Emma thought about that. Regina had not seemed _abusive_ in the past. She enjoyed violence. She was dedicated to what it meant to be an Amazon. She was a great warrior in her time. Snow had trusted her, or so Emma had believed. Now she wasn't so sure. Had Regina been hiding her true nature from her? Emma had always believed Regina was a good ruler, but then she had also believed that the ways of her people were right and just. Now she knew that was wrong.

“We have to go,” she said at last. “Athena believes that escaping is best; we need to trust her.” She looked up into Killian's handsome face, the one she loved so much. “I know that if we stay I will lose you. And I can't. I will not allow our child to grow up like I did. We have to put our family first.”

Killian nodded, even though he saw the conflict in her eyes. He kissed her gently, then held her hand as they walked to the balcony and curled up together, comforting each other from the troubles their love had unexpectedly caused.

* * *

It was getting colder; it was the time of year when Persephone joined her husband in the Underworld. Many of her sisters were out in the fields, preparing to harvest the crops to get them through the winter. Emma wondered about the weather in Porphyris; would it be warmer? She had never left her home country, aside from going out on campaign. Amazons were discouraged from interacting with man's world. Emma was beginning to understand why. She could not help but imagine what her mother would say or do if she were still alive. Snow would understand, would probably encourage her. She had been prepared to leave their people to stay with her beloved, as Amazons had before her.

Emma pulled the peplos tighter around her body; she got cold a bit easier now. A sign of her pregnancy? Her body telling her to protect her little one? She already loved the child so much, could not wait to bring her into the world. She prayed it was a world better than the one she was leaving. Emma replaced the scroll on the shelf and took down another, looking for some indication that other Amazons had left with their lovers, even married them. Athena assured Killian that it was true; Emma's own mother was proof. However, Emma's conflict and guilt lingered, despite knowing deep down she was making the right choice. The only choice.

“Emma? I am surprised to see you outside your suite.”

Emma quickly rolled up the scroll she was examining and looked up, forcing a smile for her friend. “Elsa. The same could be said for you. How is your Greek?”

“He is well. Resting. I was rather rough with him last night.”

Emma could not let herself think about how Elsa was using her mate; she knew Elsa did not feel the same way Emma did. She could only hope for the poor man's sake Elsa was with child. “The ritual is almost complete; it is good of you to let him rest.”

“I have become rather fond of him,” Elsa admitted, glancing around. “I understand my mother better now.”

Emma cocked her head, curious. “You do?”

“You know she's always spoken of my father fondly. I did not quite understand, as that had not been my experience. But David is...sweet. I truly do hope he survives.”

Emma nodded, wondering if she dare hope. Of all the people she would be leaving, she felt the worst about Elsa. They grew up together, trained together, fought side by side. Could she leave without saying goodbye? Without explaining? “I, too, believe I understand my mother better.”

Elsa sat beside her, confusion etched into her features. “Emma, you were so young when she died...”

“I know, however...” Emma looked around surreptitiously. Elsa was her closest friend. She could trust her, at least a little. “It's just a feeling I have. Being with Killian...he makes me feel alive.”

Elsa frowned. “More than going into battle?”

“Much more. It feels like...It's like discovering parts of myself I did not know where there. Elsa, what if this ritual...what if we are doing it wrong?”

Elsa looked mildly alarmed. “Wrong? Emma, do not speak that way. Our ways are ancient and sacred!”

“But are they right? Elsa, can you honestly say that you could _kill_ David yourself if the amulet shows you are not with child?”

Elsa blanched, clearly uncomfortable. “It is the way, we can not question it!”

“Why not?” Emma covered Elsa's hand with hers; it was shaking. “Elsa, do you want David to die?”

She let out a breath. “No.”

“I do not want Killian to perish. I could not bear it.” She could not confide her pregnancy; it would reveal too much. “I think I love him.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

Her face softened. “Because, Elsa, you are my dearest friend. Can I not share my happiness with you?”

The struggle was evident on her face, the conflict Emma had long ago processed and accepted. There was a chance that Elsa would not truly understand, but she had to try. So that when she turned up missing, Elsa would know—on some level—what happened. “I do not know what to say.”

Emma squeezed her hand. “You do not need to speak. I just wanted you to know.”

She still seemed very uncomfortable. “I must go. I am sure David is awake.”

“I understand. But Elsa, please think about what I said. About David.”

Elsa smiled sadly. “I will.” Her friend hurried off and Emma sighed. If the conversation showed her anything, it was that changing the ways of her people would not be simple. As Artemis had said, some things were too ingrained. Change came slowly. Emma did not have the luxury of time. Killian and her daughter needed her now. They would leave tonight. It was simply too dangerous to stay any longer.

She hurried back to her suite; Killian was waiting for her. He immediately saw the change in her. “Emma? What's wrong?”

“We need to go. At nightfall.”

“Do we have enough supplies?”

“I believe so. Even if we do not, it's too dangerous to delay.”

“What's changed?”

“Elsa found me in the library. We spoke of our mates and I...Killian, I confided how I feel about you.”

Killian dropped the linen and took her into his arms. “Is she trustworthy?”

Emma buried her nose in his shoulder. “She is my dearest friend. She would not betray me.” She had to believe that, for a few more hours. Still, she would feel safer when they were sailing down the River Themis, far from here.

“Then we will go. I'll keep you safe. Both of you.” Emma nodded, squeezing tight. She silently prayed to Athena and Artemis for courage. She would fight for her loved ones, for the life she chose. Tradition be damned.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for graphic violence and character death!

Killian grasped her elbow, gently pulling Emma into his arms. Dressed, cloaks tied at the neck, lightly armed, he needed to hold her one last time before they took this plunge. Needed to feel her softness, her love. Emma seemed to share his yearning, clinging to him tightly. The night was not as dark as they would have wished, the waxing moon dangerously close to being full. There was nothing for it; they needed to escape. Now.

“I love you,” he said hoarsely, his throat threatening to close up. The mere act of leaving put her and their child in danger and it was killing him. “No matter what happens, know that I will _always_ love you, Emma.”

Tears stung her eyes, arms tightening around his neck. “Don't,” she pleaded. “Don't say goodbye.”

She was fighting so hard to be strong; he never loved her more than in that moment. Tenderly, he lifted her chin. “I made you a promise, Princess. I intend to keep it.”

“You better.”

He smiled. “I have no doubt you'll march down to the Underworld and flog me if I do not.”

Her fingers curled around the edges of his cloak. “I love you, Killian.” She swallowed, scared but determined. “And when we get to Porphyris, I want...I want to marry you.”

He blinked, hardly daring to hope. Her love was enough; he never expected them to marry. She was an Amazon and valued her independence. “Emma, I could not ask that of you.”

“Why not?” Hurt welled in her breast. “Does that not please you?”

“Love, nothing would make me happier than sharing my life with you as your husband, as father to your children. But I love you too much to ask that which you could not give.”

“Why wouldn't I?” If there was a place were men and women truly lived as equals, then surely that applied to the married state as well? And Killian was a Spartan; they did not treat their women as property. She trusted him.

He cupped her cheeks, an awed look in his blue eyes. “You truly mean that? You want to be my wife?”

“I want everything with you, my brave Spartan. I want to marry you.” She stood on her toes and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I want to bear your children.” Another kiss. “I want to fight beside you.” Kiss. “I want grow old with you.” Kiss. “I want everyone to be in awe of us, the way we love each other. Forever.” She kissed him one last time, passionately, lips and tongues in a heated dance that made her skin tingle and her blood run hot. The moment they were safe, she was having her way with him until neither could rise.

Breaking for air (and for sanity; if the situation were not so dire, Killian would be hauling her to bed this instant), Killian held her close, his cheek resting on the crown of her head. He said a silent prayer to Artemis to protect her if something should happen. He had to believe they would make it, but he was not a fool. _Keep her safe, Lady Artemis_ , he prayed. _Her and our baby. Please._

Finally, they could delay no longer. Killian tied the rope to the stone railing and let it drop toward the ground. Emma brushed one last fleeting kiss to his lips then took it in her hands, swinging her body over the side. She'd climbed up and down ropes in her training; it was not difficult to shimmy down to the ground. She had to drop the last few cubits, but she rolled to break her fall. By the time she stood, Killian was halfway down himself and her heart was in her throat. Her mother's letter and the map were sewn away in her pack, a secret compartment just in case. She waited at the tree line for her Spartan, silently counting the racing beats of her heart.

Killian too dropped to the ground, rolling slightly less gracefully than Emma had done. Once he found her, they clasped hands and ran, hurrying in the direction of the hollowed log. One stop and they could make a dash for the river. To freedom.

The log was right where she left it; they stayed silent as Killian unstrapped his pack so they could load in the stolen food. He tried to keep an eye out for anyone, but the canopies of the trees were thick, too thick for even the nearly full moon to pierce. Speed would be their best weapon.

Emma got the last cloth package out of the log and quickly stuffed it into the pack. It wasn't as much as she hoped but it would be enough. They could eat berries or hunt if they ran out.

A snapping twig was all the warning they received.

Killian threw himself on top of Emma, blindly reaching for his short sword. It was the best Emma had been able to sneak out of the armory before they fled; it was made for someone half his size. Emma had a sword and a dagger strapped to her thigh, but she needed to take extra care, being with child. A thud echoed in the forest, metal thunking into wood? A spear? A thrown dagger? It was too dark to see. “Emma, run!” Killian screamed.

“Together,” she countered stubbornly, snatching his free hand.

He started to rise, but hardly got to his knees when something sharp pierced his side. He screamed in pain and Emma roared like a Gorgon. Medusa herself would not have been more terrifying. She was up in a flash, running in the direction the dagger had come from. Killian snarled as he pulled it out—it wasn't deep, he'd had worse—furious that Emma put herself in danger like that. She was carrying their child! Shoving aside the fire in his side, he got to his feet, running in the direction of clanging swords and hoarse shouts.

Emma roared like a banshee, anger and terror fueling her. No one hurt Killian, no one touched him! She was not her mother; she would not sit by while her lover was murdered in front of her. She did not know who she was fighting, but it did not matter. Elsa had betrayed her, there was no other explanation.

“Emma!”

Killian. She breathed a little easier, hearing his voice. He appeared at her side, sword raised, his side covered in blood. Like they'd done it a thousand times, they moved so they were back to back, ready to fight their way through. The forest made it difficult to see, but it was clear they were becoming surrounded.

“Princess!” an all too familiar voice called. “Please stop this!”

“Out of our way, Mulan,” Emma countered. “We don't want to hurt you.”

“We have orders,” the other woman said stoutly. “The Queen...”

“I do not care what my aunt wishes; we are _leaving_.” Unwilling to attempt more negotiations—they were only getting more and more outnumbered—Emma lunged at her erstwhile guard, sword raised high. Mulan was well trained, an excellent swordswoman, and parried the strike deftly. Killian tried to follow but he was set upon by three Amazons at once; it was all he could do to keep up and keep his head on his shoulders. “Killian!”

“Stop...fighting...us,” Mulan gasped, swinging her heavy sword. “We...are not...supposed...to hurt you!”

“I...don't...trust you!” She did not trust anyone, no one aside from Killian. She was not leaving without him. She saw him out of the corner of her eye, fighting for his life. She kicked Mulan in the stomach and spun, running to help. She was _not_ losing him. He already had several slashes, shallow cuts with blood streaming from them, but he was a powerful warrior. He held off his three attackers, giving ground slowly. Not from fear; Emma saw his plan instantly. There was a trail behind him, one that led to the amphitheater. She'd shown it to him from her balcony. A bridge lay across the creek; if they could get across and then cut it, they could make a run for the river.

Emma fought her way to him, hacking and slashing; if the fate of her lover was not in the balance she would have enjoyed it. Her blood sung, her sword an extension of her arm, her will. She cut down two of her sisters to get to Killian; he was almost to the trail.

“Thank the gods,” Killian exclaimed the moment he saw her. She sprinted to him, taking down another of her sisters, the girl screaming in agony. “Ready, Princess?”

“Ready.” As one, they turned and ran for it, ignoring the whistle of arrows. The zig zagged along the trail as fast as they could, like Cerebus was after them. They were almost there, almost there, the bright moonlight guiding their way until something _snapped_ and the ground seemed to swallow Killian whole. Emma screamed in fury, intent on going after him, but determined hands snatched her back, nearly wrenching her arms from their sockets. She howled, muscles screaming in pain, furious tears streaming down her cheeks. _“KILLIAN!!!!!!!”_

Then everything went black.

* * *

Bone deep cold. Water dripped from her chiton and hair, her whole body sluggish. Emma blinked hard, trying to remember why her arms hurt, why her throat was raw. Everything was so jumbled.

“Ah, she wakes.”

Emma's head snapped up, a shudder of fear sharpening her mind. Regina. Her aunt stood in front of her in a blood red peplos, a satisfied smile on her face. Suddenly, Emma's heart began to race, terrified for Killian. Where was he? Where was _she?_ What happened to them? One moment he was in front of her, the next he was gone, sinking out of sight. Then nothing. Had Artemis abandoned them? The goddess had promised to protect them!

“Where is Killian?”

Regina scowled. “After all my warnings, you just did not listen. I am so disappointed in you, Emma.”

“Where. Is. He?”

The Queen laughed. “Oh, he's still alive. For now.”

That was something. She tried to get up, but was brought up short by the manacles on her wrists. She landed on her ass with a hard thump, wincing in pain. “Cursed Hades!”

Regina's face hardened. “The only reason you are not dead yet is because you are a Chosen,” the older woman snapped. She pulled something from her cloak; it was the sacred amulet of Hera. “This will determine if you die at sunrise.”

Emma tried to get away, to twist and contort herself as Regina approached. She knew what the amulet would reveal. She kicked out, struggled and fought until Regina snapped her fingers. Two Amazons came into the cell and grabbed Emma by the shoulders, forcing her to be still. One was Rapunzel, who looked frightened and ashamed. The other, to Emma's horror, was Anna. Elsa's sister refused to look at Emma, leveling her near worshiping gaze on the Queen.

Emma refused to stop struggling; she knew deep in her bones that her pregnancy would mean Killian's death. Regina had that fanatical gleam in her eye, the one that preceded violence. Killian would die and it was Emma's fault. “No!”

Regina slapped Emma across the face, a hard sting that stole her breath. “You are nothing more than the Spartan's whore. Now be still or I will make his death very, very painful. Just like your father's.”

That more than anything got Emma to stop struggling. She gazed up at Regina with wide hate filled eyes. _Regina_ murdered James all those years ago. She killed her sister's lover...for sport? Had she discovered them? Gods forbid, had Regina murdered Snow as well? Queries turned over and over in her mind as Regina knelt in front of her. She slipped the amulet over Emma's head, the heavy crystal settling between her breasts. In a heartbeat it began to glow a bright gold.

“Finally,” Regina said rapturously. Quite pleased, she lifted the necklace away and stood. Rapunzel and Anna released Emma, leaving her panting on the floor. She hurt all over, sick to her stomach, but all that paled in comparison to the dread in her heart. After trying so hard to save him, Killian would die. His light would be gone; she was truly her mother's daughter.

“Why?” Tears streamed down her cheeks, but Emma needed to know. She could only pray that Killian could forgive her when she found him on the Fields of Asphodel. One way or another, she would find him.

Regina turned; she looked triumphant. “Why what?”

“You could have just let us go.”

Regina laughed. “And let you take my heir? That Spartan has addled your brain, Emma. You are just like your mother, forgetting your place as an Amazon!”

“Your heir? This is _my_ child!”

“You have never shown interest in being a mother, Emma. I thought it only natural that I take the child. Now things will be easier; with you dead, I will be able to truly raise her as my own.” She looked thoughtful. “I tried with you. I truly did. I tried to make you mine, but it was never enough, was it? There is too much of my wretched sister in you. Her and that no good lout she got to fuck. One man and she thought herself in _love_. Please. She lost all pride.”

“And you killed him. My father. In cold blood.”

“They were running away together; I had no choice. Snow always was an idealist. That's why she needed me.”

Emma choked on a sob, wondering what might have been. She could not leave her child to such a monster. “Get out!” she screamed. “Get out!”

“Your daughter is mine, Emma. The moment she is born, you _will_ pay for your crimes.”

She said nothing, casting a hateful look at the woman she'd once admired. How could she have been so blind? The heavy iron bars clanged as Regina left, sinking Emma into darkness. She'd never felt so alone. Despair weighed on her; she tried to curl in on herself, desperate not to give in to it. How could she not? Killian was gone, possibly dead already. Even if he was alive, Regina was going to kill him, possibly torture him first. She knew her aunt well. Bile rose in her throat, heartsick as the thought of her beloved suffering. She retched, almost doubled over as she heaved her throat even more raw. _“Killian,”_ she half whispered, half sobbed. “Killian, I am so sorry.”

She'd lost everything. Her Spartan. Her freedom. Her unborn child. Her life. It was all for _nothing_.

* * *

Killian came to in an unfamiliar place, heavy incense making him queasy. His head swam, but he fought it, desperate to find out where he was. He had to get to Emma before they hurt her. And their baby. If he lost either of them, he would march to the Underworld and demand Lord Hades condemn him to the lowest reaches of Tartarus. He would gladly die in their place.

His nausea subsided and he opened his eyes. The room was opulent, rich fabrics on the furniture; the sight of the ornate bed disturbed him greatly. What dungeon had such a bed? He tried to get up; metal bit into his skin at the wrists, his shoulders strained. He was bound to a chair.

And he was naked.

His body had its fair share of cuts and bruises from the fight in the woods. His ankle throbbed something fierce. Was it broken? He gingerly tried to put some weight on it; pain flashed up his calf. Not broken but definitely sprained. From his fall? He remembered falling, Emma's screams, then nothing. He must have been knocked out by the fall. The ground had not been solid; it had not been ground at all. Sod and sticks made to look solid earth, concealing a pit. And he'd fallen right into the trap. This was his fault. If he had not gotten captured, none of this would happening. Emma could still be living her life, blissfully unaware of him, of their fleeting happiness.

Perhaps it would have been better if he'd simply died at Troy.

“Yes, I imagine it would have,” a voice said. Killian started, unaware that he'd spoken out loud. “But one good thing came of it, so I forbear.”

He scanned the room for the voice. Leaning seductively in the door was the Queen herself, dressed in a flattering red peplos. She had a scroll in her hands, fingering it curiously. His heart sank; it was Athena's map. It had no place names on it, but Regina struck him as an reasonably intelligent woman, if insane.

“Where is Emma?”

Regina rolled her eyes. “The two of you. So concerned about each other. It's sickening.”

Killian sighed in relief. She was alive. “I imagine love is not something you understand.”

Regina scowled, marching across the room. She grabbed him by the chin and yanked his head up. “I'd watch your mouth, Spartan. I will not be as easily swayed by that pretty face.”

“You think that's what happened?” Killian laughed. “You truly are sad.”

The slap hurt, the Queen's rings biting into his cheek. He moved his jaw, turning his head to spit blood. “She only stays alive to birth my heir, Spartan. I have no such qualms about killing you.”

Killian snarled, again attempted to wrench himself free. “So get on with it then! I'm ready for the sword.”

“Ah, but that would be too easy. You corrupted my beloved niece. An example must be made. At the end of this ritual, I will personally have you carted out and destroyed. Until then, you are _mine_.” She ran her hand over his torso, a lustful gleam in her eyes. Killian pulled back in revulsion, stopped by the chair. Regina scowled and yanked on his hair, pain exploding in his head. His eyes watered, but he grit his teeth. Regina could do anything she wanted to him, he would not yield. “I'm going to have so much fun breaking you, Spartan.”

Killian's heart hammered, fear settling in his belly. He needed to hold on. For Emma. If Regina was busy with him, it might give his princess the chance to escape. To save herself and their child. He just had to be strong for them.

Regina untied him from the chair and hauled him up; another Amazon came running at the Queen's barked order. The unknown Amazon tied him to one of Regina's bed posts, arms above his head. He watched with barely concealed dread as Regina selected a dagger from the nearby table—Athena help him it was _Emma's_ —and advanced on him, caressing it like a lover. “Now where were we?”

* * *

Emma lay on the cold ground shivering. She had no idea of time; all that changed in her hole was the food and drink brought to her. At first, she refused to eat, but in the end, she could not starve her child. She loved her daughter fiercely, even if the child would never know who she was. It was all she had of Killian now; in her darkest moments, she talked to her baby, trying to tell the story of the Amazon and the Spartan. It was all she could do, not to go mad. Grief and fear gnawed at her; was there something else she could have done? She had so many regrets, but as she silently rubbed her belly, loving Killian was not one. Despair made her weak only for a little while; she cried until she was physically exhausted. Tears purged, she struggled to remain hopeful, for her daughter's sake. Killian would never forgive her if she gave in. She had to protect their baby as long as possible.

“Let me through,” a voice demanded. Emma sat up, moving too fast, head swimming. She knew that voice. Rage like she'd never known boiled in her veins, focusing her for the first time since Regina left her there.

The bars parted and Elsa stepped through.

Emma swung her legs out, taking her former friend's feet out from under her. The second Elsa was on the ground Emma struck, pure fury raining down on someone she trusted, someone who betrayed her. Elsa fought back, gasping for air, for words, but Emma did not want to hear it, did not want to listen, not when Killian could be dead or worse.

“ _How could you?”_ she screeched. _“How could you?!”_

Elsa fisted a hank of Emma's hair and yanked, a dirty move, but she needed to get Emma to listen to her. Using the momentary distraction, Elsa rolled them over and grabbed for Emma's flailing hands, holding them tightly above her head. “Gods above, _listen to me!”_

“Get off me! I should kill you! Killian...”

With supreme effort, Elsa held her friend's wrists in place with one hand and over her mouth with the other. Emma struggled and bit, but Elsa paid it no mind. “You have every right to hate me, Emma, but I did not betray you. I swear on the River Styx.”

It took a few painful moments for Elsa's words to filter through her rage, but Emma gradually stopped struggling. She looked up at Elsa with wary eyes. “If you did not, who did?”

Elsa looked away, ashamed. “It was Anna. She overheard us. I am so sorry, Emma. Once I discovered the truth, I tried to get in to see you. To set you free.”

Emma narrowed her eyes, wanting so desperately to believe her. Elsa stared back, soul bared in her ice blue eyes. It was true. Emma could feel it. Shame welled up in her, for attacking as she had. “Elsa...”

“No, I meant it when I said you should hate me. I _almost_ did it. I was so confused after our talk in the library; part of me wanted to unburden myself of it. I thought about going to the Queen a dozen times. But I did not. I could not betray your trust, even if I do not understand you. For that I am sorry.”

Emma wanted to talk more about this, but there was no time. “Elsa, Killian. Is he still...?”

“As far as I know he's alive. The Queen has him bound in her chambers. I do not know what has been done to him.”

“How long?”

Elsa frowned. “Two days. We must get you away from here; Regina intends on making examples of you tonight.”

“Elsa, I am...”

Elsa shook her head. “Say it after we've freed you and your Spartan. Can you walk?”

Emma nodded and Elsa let her up. She fished out a key and unlocked the manacles. The skin under them was red, scraped and bleeding, but the pain was minor compared to her ever present fear for Killian. If Regina broke his spirit, she would not rest until the Queen was dead. The two Amazons padded from the cell; Emma was stunned to find Rapunzel and David on the other side.

“Apologies, Princess,” Rapunzel said quickly. “The Queen forced me...”

“Nevermind that,” she replied. “We need to go.” Her sword and dagger were obviously gone, but David handed her new ones. He looked grim, dressed in a ragged woolen chiton. She nodded her thanks, hurrying to catch up to Elsa. “He will not be unguarded.”

“I know.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because you are my friend and I failed you.” She glanced back at David, eyes soft. “And perhaps you were right.”

The quartet took a little used set of passages through the palace; it seemed Elsa had used some trickery to get to Emma in the dungeons, pretending to be taking David there. In a different world, Emma had used that same trick for Killian. She prayed that he was alright, even though that felt useless. Where was Artemis? She promised to protect them, but the goddess was nowhere in evidence. Captured, imprisoned, probably tortured...it did not feel like protection to her.

As they approached Regina's corridor, Elsa waved them flat against the wall. As silently as they could, each one drew a weapon. Emma could make out two guards outside Regina's door; there were probably more inside. Not to mention Regina herself. No matter the odds, Emma was getting her Spartan back. She nodded at Elsa, likely thinking the same thing. They'd fought side by side long enough to know what the other would do. Swords raised high, they jogged down the corridor, David and Rapunzel on their heels. Once they were nearly on top of the guards, both women let out a piercing war cry, felling their opponents with ease.

Emma yanked back the filmy curtain that hid Regina's chambers from view, running through the doorway, braced for an attack. There was none. There was only one person in the room; a crumpled bloody lump on the floor.

“Killian?”

There was no response. Emma ran to him, sword forgotten. Her knees cracked on the hard floor, but she paid it no mind, carefully lifting his face. “Killian? Merciful Zeus, what has she done to you?”

Killian tried to flinch away, but he was too weak. This was too cruel; now he was hallucinating his love. Seeing things that weren't there. Emma was far away; he would never see her again. “No, _no_ ,” he pleaded, voice hardly louder than a whisper. “Not Emma. Anything but her. Anything!”

Emma felt her heart shatter; he did not recognize her. Or he did and could not believe it was her. As if she would leave him alone. “Killian. Please. I'm real, I am Emma. Look at me. Please.”

His left eye was nearly swollen shut, but he managed to open the right. He blinked, still not quite believing the evidence of his sight. Emma, sweet beautiful Emma. A little dirtier than he remembered, but she was there and she was holding him, tears swimming in her green eyes. “Emma?”

She choked on a sob, clutching him to her. He was naked and bloody; a hundred little cuts criss crossing his skin but he was _alive_.

“Emma, we need to hurry. The Queen could return at any moment!”

She wanted nothing more than to hold him, clean his cuts, heal his wounds and his heart, but Elsa was right. They still were not safe. She pressed a kiss to his forehead, tasting dried blood. “Killian, we need to get you out of here. Can you walk?”

He shook his head violently. “Not me. Go.”

“I am not leaving without you, Spartan.”

“I am no good to you, love,” he said, painfully stretching out his leg. The ankle was swollen, black and blue. “Leave me. Save our child, Emma.”

“I am not losing you again. I'll carry you if I have to.” Resolute, she caught the key Rapunzel tossed to her and unlocked his cuffs. Then she lifted him into a standing position, ordering him to lean on her as much as he needed. He was heavy, very weak, but she was determined. David came up on Killian's other side and offered his assistance. Together the three of them maneuvered back into the hall; they could hear shouts and shuffling. In moments the entire palace guard would be upon them.

“Which way?” Rapunzel asked, terrified.

“This way.” Elsa led the way, sword out. Rapunzel brought up the rear, their only warning if set upon from behind. Emma absolutely was not leaving without Killian; she'd go down fighting if necessary. They were a pair, a family; it was both of them or nothing.

“Come on, Killian, almost there,” she said soothingly.

“Don't start lying to me now, Princess,” he scolded, wheezing. “This damnable ankle is slowing us down!”

“Suck it up, Spartan,” David snapped. “We're not leaving you.”

“How'd you even get here, David?”

“It's a long story. I'll tell you if we live.”

That was oddly prophetic as Rapunzel shouted a warning moments later. They all ducked and turned the next corner, Killian panting hard. “Get out of here, damn it!” he growled. “Leave me!”

“No!”

“They're coming!”

Elsa stood. “Take Killian,” she said. “I'll hold them off.”

“Elsa, you can not take on the whole palace guard by yourself!”

Rapunzel stood too. “She won't be alone.”

“Yes, this is all very noble,” a new voice said. “Perhaps it'll even make it in the song, if my brother ever gets to sing again.”

All five heads turned toward the voice; it belonged to a young woman about twenty, dressed in a delicate shade of green, a bow and quiver on her back and a sword in her hand. A little older than when Emma saw her last, but it was unmistakably Artemis. “Lady Artemis?”

At Killian's awed croak, the goddess smiled. “Spartan. My deepest apologies for being late. There has been fighting at Troy; I was unusually...detained.” She bent and touched a hand to his obscenely swollen ankle; it healed in a flash. “I am not quite as proficient at this as my nephew, but that should get you to the river. Do not linger there; we will do our best to give you the time you need.”

“Huntress,” Emma began. She wanted to know just where the goddess had been, why she'd allowed Killian to suffer so.

“Emma, all your questions will be answered. Please know that I did not willingly shirk my duty to you. I am here now. Get to the river, find Athena. She will protect you.”

The urge to argue was strong but the guard was perilously close now. Nodding her thanks, she wrapped an arm around Killian's waist and hurried toward the west exit of the palace. David looked left, then right, his gaze falling on Elsa. He was not sure what he felt for the Amazon; she'd been kind to him, given the circumstances. But if he remained, he was most likely a dead man.

“Go,” Elsa said, shoving at his chest. “Please.”

“Elsa...”

“You have a chance to be free,” she said. “Take it.”

David nodded once, then hurried after the princess and Killian. Even with Killian's healed ankle, they could not move very fast; unlike Emma, Killian had not eaten since their capture. He was dead on his feet. David took over for Emma, using his taller frame to aid his friend. Emma nodded her thanks, unsheathing her sword once more. They could hear the crashes and battle cries of their companions as the guard descended; Emma forced herself to keep going. Getting them to the river was the only thing they could do now.

It was too dangerous to take Emma's usual path to the clearing; the woods would be crawling with Amazons to prevent their escape. Just before stepping into the treeline, Emma sighted on the brightest star in the sky; it pointed north. If they followed it, they would find the river eventually. No one spoke; it was clear to all they stealth was a necessity. This was made more difficult with Killian's exhaustion, but he found the strength to shove his friend off and make his own way, at Emma's back. He had no weapon, could hardly put one foot in front of the other without feeling woozy, but he was not leaving Emma again.

Every snapping twig, every breath of wind made them stop, wait several tense beats, then keep going. Emma was certain Regina would not leave the woods unguarded; it was what she would do in her aunt's place. The deeper they got, however, more silent the forest became, which was concerning. If there were no guards then there was a very good chance they were walking into a trap. The river was the only safe and swift road out of the Amazons' territory; they did not have anywhere else they could go.

“This doesn't feel right,” Killian whispered.

“I know,” she whispered back. She found his hand in the dark and squeezed. His desperate squeeze back broke her heart. She would find a way to make Regina pay for doing this to him. “But it is the only way.”

“Agreed.”

“How much further?” David asked.

“Just over the rise. We will need to run for it.”

Killian took a deep steadying breath; he was a Spartan, he could do this. “Right behind you, Princess.”

A fleeting smile twitched on her lips; she could not describe how much hearing that familiar endearment meant to her. Her Killian was in there; he just needed to be far from here where he could rest and heal. She took his hand firmly in hers. “Together.”

He nodded and braced himself to run. They took off toward the clearing; Killian stumbled the first few steps, cursing under his breath. As they moved strength flowed into his limbs. He did not know where it had come from, but he dared not question it. He prayed quickly to Athena and kept going. He could see it now, shining in the nearly full moon, just as beautiful at the first time Emma had brought him here.

“Hurry,” Emma panted, eyes searching for the raft. It had to still be here, it had to. She made a beeline for where she had hidden it in the brush. Holy blessed Hera, it was still there! She pulled it free and David sprang forward to help her drag it to the riverbank.

“They are here, my Queen! Here!”

“No, no, no,” Emma chanted. “Killian! Hurry!” She could hear them now, a score of Amazons running through the forest; her secret no longer concealed. Anna was the first to emerge, bow and arrow raised. Killian shouted a warning and Emma ducked; the arrow whizzed over her head. She and David tugged on the raft again, they were almost there. Killian's wheezing cry echoed in the clearing and she panicked. No, she was _not_ losing him again. She dropped the raft and ran back up the bank, David hot on her heels. She found Killian brandishing David's fallen sword, trying to stave off Anna and Aurora. Emma screamed and rushed to him, parrying Aurora's blow at his neck. She shoved back and kicked, sending the other Amazon to the ground.

Emma moved, deliberately putting herself between Killian and the line of approaching Amazons. There were only a dozen or so, but Regina was there, glaring daggers at her. A sword rested on her hip; a royal blue chiton draped over her artfully. Regina always did pride herself on being well dressed.

“Emma,” Killian said urgently. “Let them have me. Just go.”

“We are having a talk about this later. I am _not_ leaving you!”

“You see, Amazons,” Regina drawled, stepping through the center of the closing noose. “Your princess has given herself to this _man_. He thinks he _owns_ her. She had betrayed her sisters! Gone against our sacred ways, defied Queen Hera! What should be her punishment?”

“Death! Death!” chanted the Amazons. “Death to the traitor!”

Killian snarled, trying to elbow his way through. “Killian, no!”

“You should not be punished for loving me,” he growled. “I will not have it!”

“No one cares what you want, Spartan,” Regina snapped. “You are _nothing_. A means to an end. But my people have spoken. I shall have to find my heir elsewhere.” She drew her sword. “Pity.”

Emma shoved Killian back into David. “Hold him. If I fall, get far away from here, do you understand?”

David looked wary but nodded. Killian struggled and kicked, terrified not only for Emma but their baby. Their light sparring was nothing compared to what Regina would do to her. As he knew all too well.

 _Be strong, Spartan,_ a female voice said. Killian whipped his head around, trying to find the source. _My sister has protected your child. Trust in your Amazon._ Athena. There but not there, just like in his dream. _Give her strength_ , he prayed. _And thank you._

Emma was under no illusions as Regina stepped into the ring of women. This was a battle to the death. Only one of them would come away from this. This was her chance to avenge her father's death, Killian's torture. She could still see him in Regina's room, bound, bloody and terrified. Terrified but not broken. Even then his only thought was to protect her. His love for her gave her strength and she tightened her grip on the sword.

“Do not let the scum escape,” Regina ordered, tossing away her cloak. “We will make examples of them.”

Emma snarled. “I won't let you take Killian.”

“We will see.” With no other warning, Regina attacked, the blow aimed at her head. Emma grunted as the swords clanged and sprang apart. “Do not interfere!” the Queen shouted at the Amazons.

Emma used the momentary distraction to sidestep and slash, getting Regina across the bicep. Blood flowed from the shallow wound and Regina screamed like an irate bull. She charged, sword glinting in the moonlight. Emma parried and spun out of the way, but Regina was faster than she expected. It took all of her considerable skills to hold off Regina's fury, thrust, block, lunge, kick, slash, block, duck, roll. It occurred to Emma as they traded blows that even as angry as Regina was, she still seemed reluctant to kill. Holding out some hope that Emma would repent and vow to give up her baby? Perhaps she could use that, find a way to get Regina off balance.

“Did you kill my mother?”

Regina laughed, going low to slash at Emma's thigh. “No, but I almost wish I had. She never got over that man.”

“James,” Emma spat. “His name was James.”

“Whatever.” Regina tried again, reaching for a dagger in her belt. “You are just as weak as she was!”

The dagger sailed toward Emma's head; it missed at least a cubit. “I am not weak!” Emma screamed. “I am not nothing!” Furious, she lunged toward Regina and they collided, tumbling to the ground. Killian, despite Athena's assurance, tried to get a way again; David held him fast. But he kept struggling, refusing to let Emma take on that harpy alone.

Emma trained to fight at Regina's knee and if there was one thing her aunt had taught her, it was to use every tool available no matter how inconsequential. They kicked and punched, rolling in the dirt and grass. Regina's dagger lay on the ground a few cubits away, whoever got to it first would most likely be the victor. Another roll and Regina landed on top of Emma. One hand clamped on her throat, the other tried to reach for the dagger. Emma struggled and kicked, her air getting short. She gripped Regina's wrist, trying to twist it off. Digging her nails in as hard as she could between the tendons, Regina screamed and let go; Emma thrust her hips to the left and somehow leveraged her aunt off her. At the same moment, Killian broke free of David's hold and barreled toward Regina, tackling her to the ground. But he was still weak, ravenously hungry, one well placed punch to the gut sent him sprawling.

“This is what I get for playing with my toys,” Regina snarled, kicking him again.

Emma snatched up the dagger and ran for them, arm raised high. So intent on Killian, Regina lost track of her real prey, giving Emma the chance to strike. The dagger sliced through Regina's back and the Queen arched, a eye piercing shriek erupting from her throat. Dropping like a sack of meal, she landed heavily on Killian, who grunted in pain but managed to shove her off. He grabbed the dagger from her back and plunged it deep into the Amazonian Queen's heart, watching as the life drained out of her.

“May you be banished to the depths of Tartarus,” he growled breathlessly, falling back to the blood stained earth.

“Killian!” Emma hurried over and lay his head in her lap. “Stupid, stubborn Spartan!”

He found her hand and squeezed. His were covered in blood. “You are safe now.”

“We are _both_ safe,” she corrected. She held him protectively against her and looked up at the Amazons. “Regina is dead. I do not want the crown. Leave us in peace.” Every single one of those Amazons had chanted for her death; she could not lead them as Queen. They were no longer her people. “Go while I still have some mercy left.”

One by one they retreated, sheathing their weapons. Anna was one of the last. Part of Emma wanted the girl to pay for what she'd done, but she could not allow revenge to continue to rule her heart. Killian was safe now, they could go find the life they dreamed of at last.

Though not without scars.

Their carefully laid supplies were gone, but they needed to go. As soon as they were far enough away from the city, they could find some food. Emma and David got the raft into the water, leaving Killian to scoop out handfuls of water to quench his considerable thirst. He was still starving but it was the best he could do at the moment. The raft wasn't made for three but Emma had no intention of leaving David behind. Killian stretched out on the bottom, his head back in Emma's lap. She touched his cheek tenderly, then nodded to David, who gave them the final push off from the bank. They used some long branches to propel them through the water, following the current.

Emma thought she'd feel something, a pang of regret or longing as she left her home, but she was too exhausted to feel anything. Killian fell asleep, curling up in her lap like a cat. She smiled down at him, thankful he was getting some much needed rest.

“You should sleep too,” David said, shielding his eyes from the rising sun. “I can handle this.”

“That is kind of you but...”

David waved her off. “My father was a fisherman,” he said. “I grew up on skiffs like this. It's the least I can do. Please. Rest. We'll need to hunt in a few hours.”

“Very well.” Killian stirred when she lifted his head off her lap, but she quickly hushed him, settling in beside him. He rolled onto his back and she snuggled up beside him, her head on his chest. Instinctively, his arms came around her; for the first time in almost three days she felt completely safe.

* * *

“Emma! Emma!”

She came running; Killian lay exactly where she left him, thrashing in his sleep. Another nightmare. She knelt beside him and shook his shoulder. “Killian! I'm right here, wake up.”

He grunted, eye fluttering open. “Emma?”

She smiled softly. “Always, my love.”

He glanced away, ashamed of his weakness. “Apologies, Princess.”

She cupped his cheek. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Killian. I want to be here for you.”

“I am slowing us down.”

“You were _tortured_. With Regina gone, there is no one in charge in Themiscyra. While they fight amongst themselves, we have time to rest.” She bent and tenderly kissed his lips. “I love you.”

He turned to kiss her palm. “As I love you.” No matter what Regina had done to him, he clung to that truth. He loved Emma more than his own life. “The babe?”

Emma touched her stomach. “I feel fine. She's going to be okay, you said Athena promised.”

“She said that Artemis...did something so that our baby would be safe.”

“Then we shall trust in them.” In truth, she was a little worried; in the two days since they fled, there had been no sign of the goddess. Artemis promised her answers and Emma wanted them. She needed to know where their protector had been the night they attempted to flee. Killian's nightmares were a constant reminder of what they'd suffered and very nearly lost. “Hungry?”

Killian nodded, thankful she did not press him to speak of his dream. He did not think he could bear it; the vision was too fresh. Regina pleasuring herself, telling him all the things she wanted to do him, if he just accepted her as Master. Every single time he refused, his body shuddering in disgust and each time she made him pay, her dagger carving through his flesh. Never too deep, as she did not want him to lose consciousness. But the small cuts were almost worse, the pain keeping him awake even when Regina was not there to torment him.

The first time they stopped to hunt, David went while Emma gently washed Killian from head to toe. Dried blood, dirt and salty sweat sluiced off his skin; he winced as she cleaned the fresh cuts. The stab wound in his side was red and inflamed; Emma knew enough about tending wounds to make a poultice to draw the infection out the worst of his wounds, including his swollen eye. He had a fever for the first day, giving him the first of his terrifying nightmares, but it thankfully had passed. David cut the wool of his chiton in half, so Killian had something to wear. It was itchy on his damaged body, but better than nothing.

“We're only a half day from the coast,” David said as they ate the game he'd caught. It was tough and a bit leathery. “We can be there by nightfall.”

“We will be under Athena's protection there,” Emma said. “But I do not think we should linger.”

“Agreed,” Killian said. The sooner they set sail for Porphyris, the better. He never wanted to see this accursed place again.

Emma watched him carefully, so, so worried about him. She did not want to pry, but keeping his anguish locked up inside him was clearly eating away at him. She did not know precisely what Regina had done to him, aside from the obvious cuts. His physical wounds would heal; most of them would hardly even scar. Not that she minded. Each one proved how strong her Spartan was; they were just another reason to love him. She wanted to help but did not know how.

He caught her watching him and he just felt ashamed all over again. Aside from the dagger and a few angry slaps, Regina had hardly touched him. It was her words that dug deep, the knowledge that she wanted to violate him while the Amazons watched. He could not bear it if Emma looked at him with pity; he was a Spartan. He wanted her, wanted her touch to burn away the memories of Regina's torture, but he did not feel worthy of her or her love. He'd let Regina into his head and tormented him.

Tossing aside the ragged bone, he stood and strode into the forest. He needed to get a hold of himself before they set out again. Emma hesitated, anxious, but ultimately followed. This distance between them was tearing her apart. She wanted her Killian back, as much as that was possible. She needed him to know that she loved him unconditionally. She refused to let Regina win, especially from the grave.

“Killian?”

He sighed, resting a hand on a nearby tree. “Yes, Princess?”

Hesitantly, she rested a hand on his shoulder. “Talk to me? I miss you.”

“I've not gone anywhere, love.”

She frowned at the bitterness in his voice, the pain. “I do not care what happened, Killian. You are still my Spartan.”

“Perhaps you should care.” He looked away. “See? I can not even look you in the eye.”

She moved around to face him. “Yes, you can.” She lifted his chin, smiling when he did finally look at her. “There you are.”

“But for how long? Emma, I...she's in my head. Every time I close my eyes. I hate it.”

“So we get her out. Perhaps not all at once, but...” She drew his hands to her belly. “I need you. Our child needs you. If you still want us?”

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight to his chest. “Gods, so much, Emma. You helped me stay strong, when I thought I could not bear another moment. I would picture your smile, the light in your eyes. I knew I had to survive, so the two of you could live.”

“And I have told you, living without you is not something I want. So you have to come back to me.”

His throat tightened; the purity of her love choking him. He wanted to be worthy so badly. He wanted that life they talked about, a long life with love and family. Suddenly he could not be apart from her for another second. Crushing his mouth to hers, he felt her melt in his arms, a pleased mewl in her throat. _“Emma.”_ They collided with a tree, mouths still fused together. Killian grabbed her legs and hoisted her up; Emma nodded fervently as she locked her ankles behind him. She offered him her neck, moaning as he lapped at her pulse. Talking could come later, when they were safe, but for now she just needed to feel him, to know without a doubt they were alive and whole and together.

“Gods, please,” she panted. “Need you so much.”

His hands wandered her body, retracing her lush curves. “Mine.”

She nodded hard. “Yours, Killian. Always yours.” She drew his lips back to her. “Show me. Right here. Right now.” She would give him anything he needed to be whole again, starting with her body.

“Not like this.” He kissed her, with far more tenderness than she expected. His hands worked the pin on her chiton, the dirty ragged cloth beginning to fall away. “I wish to worship you, Emma.”

Time was everything, David was waiting, but neither cared at the moment. Finding each other like this was far more important. “Yes, yes, please.”

Killian set her down and unwound the cloth from her body. He folded it and laid it on the ground in a makeshift bed. Let David hear them; if he knew what was good for him, he'd wait. He picked Emma up and stretched her out on the cloth, but she would not let him get away so easily. She held his arm with one strong hand, deftly untying the knot holding the wool in place. She peeled it away, revealing his marred skin. “Want to worship you too.”

He glanced away but Emma drew him back, her green eyes shining with love and lust. “Stay with me.” She tenderly kissed the still swollen skin around his left eye, pressed more kisses to his bearded cheeks, his nose, his lips. “Love you.”

He had to blink rapidly to keep the tears at bay, mouth hot on hers. He could feel her love in every touch, every slide of her lips and it slowly began to knit the wounded parts of his soul back together. He urged her back onto the fabric, his mouth trailing down her neck, over her collar. Emma arched under him, her fingers in his dark hair, hoping to keep him with her. She was more vocal than in the past, loud moans, keening cries and gasps telling him just how much she needed everything he could do her. He suckled at her nipples until she was shaking, core molten and desperate to be filled. Still he denied her, flipping them over. He stretched out on his back and lifted her until she straddled his face.

“Yes, Killian, yes!” she cried the moment his tongue touched her. She braced her hands on his chest, wantonly grinding against him as he devoured her.

“Missed your sweetness...fuck,” he groaned, lapping at her. She was swollen and pink, dripping on his lips and chin. “So good.”

She sucked on her lip, riding high on his touch, his tongue sinking inside her. He rubbed her clit with a finger and she exploded, screaming out her climax. Killian did not stop, drinking her down, manipulating her body the way he knew she craved. She fell to her elbows, purring, slowly riding his fingers. Head laying on his hip, his cock was _right there_ and gods, she needed to taste him. She started slow, running her tongue over his length, like a cat lapping at water. He groaned, hips bucking up off the ground. “Fuck, Princess.”

“Don't stop,” she whispered, blowing cool air over the sensitive flesh. “Feels so fucking good.”

He squeezed her ass with his free hand. “Suck me, love. Need it so much.”

She hummed in response, wrapping her hand around him. After a few hard pumps, she opened and took him in, deep. His moan reverberated through him, making her shiver above him. Licking, sucking, swirling, she used every trick she knew to make him feel good, to chase away the bad dreams. Deprived of each other's touch, it was not long before he was trembling, on the verge of coming. “Stop!”

“Killian?”

He extracted his fingers from her core. “Need to be inside you. Please.”

She moved without a word, spinning around to straddle his hips. Together they angled her hips just right so he could penetrate her. “Oh, oh, oh,” she breathed, the stretch and burn so good after too many days apart. “Oh yes.”

Killian's eyes rolled back in his head; this felt like coming home. She was hot and wet and so tight, like she was made for him. He was so swept up in the feel of her, he did not realize he was chanting her name like a prayer, like she was his very own goddess.

Emma bent over him, smoothing her hands down his chest, up his arms. His eyes flew open, bright with panic, but she threaded her fingers through his. “I'm here, Killian. Hold on to me. Stay with me.”

He nodded, kissing her hard, nipping at her lips. She rode him faster, turned on by his aggression. She let out a yelp as he pushed them up so she was sitting in his lap, grinding sensuously. “Ugh, so wet,” he groaned, squeezing her ass firmly. “Never leaving here again.”

While the idea of him locked within her and stroking her body to endless orgasms was appealing, she needed to come _now_. “Make me come,” she pleaded, guiding his mouth back to her breast. “Please!”

He flipped them over again, slipping from her briefly. She hardly had the chance to miss him, cock plunging right back into her heat forcefully. She cried out, spreading her legs wider, hooking them over his shoulders. The change in angle had her coming quickly, so hard she saw stars, but Killian did not stop. He pounded into her over and over and over; Emma screamed, another orgasm gripping her hard on the heels of the first. It was wild and intense; she felt like she was flying. Killian groaned loudly, his own high finally taking him, fire licking through his veins, scorching him.

They collapsed, Killian barely rolling off her. Emma groaned a little as she straightened out her legs; he'd bent her double and she could feel it. But she did not let him get away, tucking herself against him in the cool air. “Hmmm.”

Killian lay on his back, eyes closed, breathing hard. He had never felt anything like that before, especially not with Emma. It felt like the crushing weight that hung over him was—well, not _gone_ but considerably less. He did not know if it would hold, but he prayed that it would, that he could once again be the man Emma loved.

“I love you, Emma,” he whispered into her hair. “Thank you.”

She felt sleepy and sated but she fought it. “I just need you to stay with me, Killian.”

“I know. I will, I promise.”

She looked up at him, tenderly stroking his swollen skin. “When you want to talk, I will be here for you. Just...do not shut me out? I hate seeing you hurt.”

He kissed her sweetly. “I did not care what she did to me as long as you and the little one were safe. I hoped you would find a way to escape.”

“And Elsa came for me.” She sighed, not knowing what happened to her friend. She would never get to repay Elsa for helping her free her beloved. “But I could not leave you.”

“Even though it put you in more danger,” he chided. “Though I am grateful, love.”

“Don't ever demand I abandon you, Killian. I will fight to my very last breath for us.”

“As I will. That may sometimes leave us at an impasse.”

“What's done is done. I plan on growing old with you, Spartan.”

“Right now, I will settle for reaching Porphyris safely. You need consistent nourishment for our child.”

She rolled onto her back, coaxing Killian's head to her belly. He needed that connection, as she did in her darkest moments. The life they'd made together, the symbol of their future. A future she was determined to have now that they were free.

Killian sighed, lightly stroking her belly with his thumb, her fingers massaging his scalp. At his lowest point, he'd despaired of ever having this again, a simple quiet moment with the woman he loved. Regina had done her best to persuade him that he did not deserve this, that he was just a thing to be used and discarded. His body bore the marks, as did his mind. Emma saved him, not only from Regina but from the lingering doubt that he did not deserve to be happy, or even alive. She wanted them to have the family both of them had once been deprived of; he could not let her down. He wanted to watch Emma grow round with their baby, live a life free from fear and judgment. He heard the terrible chants of her sisters, condemning her for loving him. It enraged him, but they would soon be far from this place. Away and free.

“Your mother is an extraordinary woman, little love,” he murmured. “We are going to give you a very happy home.”

The tenderness in his voice made her heart ache; she could not stop the tears scrolling down her cheeks. Killian just kept talking, musing about what their new life would be like, all the things he wanted to do with his baby girl, how much he wanted to give her brothers and sisters. It was a beautiful idyllic portrait of life, one Emma never believed was possible until he came into her life. A life she had not known she wanted or known that her mother had wanted for _her_.

 _I avenged him, Mother_ , she thought. She prayed her parents had reunited in the Underworld and they could now be at peace. James' murderer was dead; Regina could never hurt anyone again.

David was waiting when they returned to the makeshift camp. He said nothing about their delay, although as loud as they were, he surely knew the reason. Killian seemed more himself, more openly affectionate, his head held higher. He was not all the way back, but Emma had faith that he would heal. Things would be better once they arrived in Porphyris. They could start over, build the home he spoke of so passionately, the home they fought so hard for.

 


	8. Chapter 8

They ditched the skiff a little way from the port, not wishing to draw attention to themselves. The skiff would surely not only mark them as outsiders, but possibly fugitives. Which, technically, they were, at least until they knew the outcome of the power struggle back in Themiscyra.

“We should find shelter,” David said, looking up at the sky. Dark ominous clouds gathered overhead, a storm was coming in from the Aegean. “We can look for passage tomorrow.”

Emma held tight to Killian's hand. “I do not know this place,” she said regretfully. “But I agree.”

Killian said nothing, frustrated that their delay was his doing. Between tending his fever and trying to sate his hunger with meager game and berries, they lost a whole day. On the surface, it did not seem like much but the fall season brought storms to the Aegean and they had a long journey ahead to Porphyris. No one spoke of how precisely they would book passage on a ship or if David was coming with them. Killian sometimes caught his friend staring into space, torment in his blue eyes. Elsa? None of them knew if their benefactor was alive or dead; Killian could see the guilt of that weighing on his friend.

It was a thriving city, if small. Smaller than Themiscyra at any rate. Homes and shops fanned out from the water front, the streets filled with people. Most dwellings were made of clay, covered in tiles, in the Greek fashion. The Greeks had many settlements along the Anatolian coast, which would help them considerably. It should not be difficult to persuade a Greek captain to make a side trip to Porphyris, at least Emma hoped not.

The scent of roasting meat made Killian's stomach rumble painfully; he still was not back to his normal self. Emma knew he was worried about _her_ receiving steady nourishment, but he was the one who'd been starved and tortured. He needed several good meals before his appetite was back to normal. She turned to David. “Find the temple of Athena,” she said. “This is a Greek settlement; I am sure there is one. You and Killian find shelter there and I will find us some food.” She'd steal it if she had to, not that she wanted it to come to that.

“Emma,” Killian began.

She held a finger to his lips. “David's hardly slept since we left and you are still half starved, Spartan.” She smiled and moved to tenderly cup his cheek. “I promise to be careful.”

Killian rested a hand on her belly. “Hurry back. I do not like letting you out of my sight.” His psyche was still a bit raw; there were moments when he still feared this was some sort of fever dream, that he was being punished by the gods.

“I will. I love you.” She made a point of saying the words often, hoping they would comfort him. She turned to David. “I won't be long.”

David nodded, gently steering Killian toward the crowd. She waited until they were out of earshot; she could just make out David stopping a passerby, most likely to ask for directions to the temple. As they were weary travelers Hermes might have been the better choice, but Athena vowed to protect them once they reached the coast. Trusting that David would look after Killian, Emma moved toward the market, hoping to scrounge up some food. She didn't have anything aside from the clothes on her back, so she couldn't even barter for what they needed. It was a dilemma she was unaccustomed to, but she was used to challenging situations. This one just happened to not occur on the battlefield.

Fruit, fish, freshly trimmed meat, piles of nuts, they all taunted her, her belly growling. She silently cursed Regina all over again for not simply letting them go. They had plenty of food stashed away in their log, but it was long gone. It would have been a stretch for three people, but Emma was glad to have David there. She could imagine the anxiety Elsa experienced while she debated freeing him, the sudden realization that everything you believed in was wrong.

She hoped Elsa survived; she did not deserve to die for Emma's cause.

After making a show is browsing the carts, Emma carefully ducked behind them. Many of them were covered in wide swaths of cloth to shield the sellers and their wares from the sun. This left her somewhat hidden, allowing her to pick up low hanging or discarded food. She folded and bunched her chiton to create a makeshift pouch and began sliding pieces of fruit into it. Perhaps when she was finished, she could maneuver it to give the impression of being with child. Well, more with child than she already was. They couldn't really use that as a bargaining chip, as it was far too early in her pregnancy. Her belly was as flat as it had been a month ago, when all this began.

Holy Hera, had it only been a month? It seemed impossible that her life could undergo such a fundamental shift in so brief a time, but she could not deny that it was so. Emma had never been a spoiled princess; she was a warrior, fighting for her people and her country. She had no interest in motherhood or men for that matter. All it had taken was one man, one amazingly flawed but perfect man to turn her entire world upside down. She was in love, pregnant and eagerly looking forward to raising her baby. A daughter. Not only that, but she wanted to have more children! A little boy with Killian's charming grin and dimples, dark hair in his eyes. A family they could love, a partner she could grow old with. Emma never expected to grow _old_ before. She thought she'd die on the battlefield, a hero to her people.

Perhaps now she could be a hero in another way, give some meaning to her parents' sacrifice.

“Those do not belong to you.”

Emma's head shot up; she was furious at being so careless. She was therefore surprised when she found a kindly looking middle aged woman with dark hair and eyes staring back at her. “I do not have anything to barter with,” she said, clutching the purloined food close to her chest. “And my friends are counting on me.”

Strangely, the woman did not seem surprised. “Have you traveled a long way?”

Emma did not understand what it was about this woman that made her want to trust her; perhaps she was being foolish. However, she wanted to have hope that not everyone was like her aunt. That there was kindness and charity in the world. Still, her free hand slid back toward her concealed weapon. “Far enough. We are passing through, hoping to gain passage on a ship.”

The woman's gaze fell to wear Emma's dagger lay beneath her chiton. “There is no need for that, child. I will not harm you.” She held out her basket. “I have a spare room at my home. You and your friends may bunk down there for the night. This is no weather to be caught in.”

“Why should I trust you?” Her studied her would be Samaritan, seeing no lie in her eyes. Still, she knew to be wary of something that sounded too good to be true.

Her stranger smiled. “Because your first thought was to send your men to my temple. You remained faithful, Amazon.”

Emma blinked, her jaw going slack. She was so stunned she nearly dropped the food she was carrying, catching it at the last second before kneeling in supplication. “Lady Athena.”

Athena touched her shoulder, silently bidding her to rise. “Here I am simply a kindly old woman. You may call me Alexa.”

“I can not thank you enough for this kindness. The last few days have been difficult.”

Athena kept her face impassive, but her anger shown in her eyes. “Those responsible shall be dealt with; if Artemis leaves any for the rest of us, of course. She is quite angry.”

Emma frowned in confusion. “Regina...she is dead. Killian and I...she is dead, lady.”

“I do not speak of Regina, although I do admit to having no regrets with regard to her end. Why do you think my sister was unable to come to your aid sooner, child?”

“I do not know. There was no time for her to explain.” Emma did wish to know; it was not like Artemis to allow an innocent like Killian to suffer, not after swearing her protection.

“Then I shall let her tell that tale. She will be pleased that you made it here safely.” Athena looked thoughtful. “But not unscathed.” She reached out and brushed her hand over Emma's cheekbone; the goddess' touch was surprisingly cool. “I will do what I can for him, Amazon. You have already done so much to heal the one you love.”

“Thank you...Alexa.” It did not feel right to refer to a goddess in such a way, but she bit her tongue. She never expected Athena to disguise herself among mortals.

Athena took the food Emma had gathered; it was her task to find Killian and David and bring them to the home Athena was using in her guise as the old woman. The goddess granted her directions to the temple and the house, expecting Emma in one hour. There, they could rest and recuperate before securing passage to Porphyris. Emma moved quickly through the streets, only pausing briefly to get her bearings in the strange place. Athena's temple lay near the center of the city; she was its patron goddess. It was no wonder her power was so strong here.

The temple was smaller than she expected, built from mismatched stone. Had it been constructed from scraps as other buildings were laid? Or had the citizens used the only hard rock available to secure the goddess' favor soon after settling? It was impossible to tell. She looked around for Killian and David, keeping one eye on the coming storm. They would need to hurry in order to get to Athena's dwelling before the heavens opened.

“Killian? David?”

“Over here, love.” Emma pushed back some brush, finding them in a little alcove. It was an excellent hiding place; she'd passed by there once already and hadn't spotted them. “Apologies. I did not think it wise to give us away, just in case.”

Emma knelt down and kissed his temple. “You did the right thing.” Although how much of that was practical caution and how much paranoia from being tortured, she couldn't say. “Now we must hurry, the storm is getting closer. I found us a place to stay.”

“You did? Where?”

As briefly as she could, Emma explained her encounter with the goddess. Killian's eyes grew round but he accepted her story without question. David, however, did not. “How do we know it was Athena?”

“You met bloody Artemis, yet you doubt Athena?”

David glanced away. “I just do not want us walking into a trap. I will not be captured again.”

Emma understood his fear. “David, I can tell when people are lying. I looked this woman in the eye and I saw no deception.”

“But you said yourself that she did not look anything like she did when Killian saw her in his dream!”

“Artemis didn't look the same either, not exactly. She was...older? I imagine that's a power that the gods have. There are countless stories of them concealing their presence from mortals, to test them.”

“She's right,” Killian said, looking proud. She smiled gratefully. “We need to go. When we are all rested, we can talk about what we do next.” David held up his hands in surrender and allowed the others to help him up. Emma and Killian led the way, hand in hand. “Do you think it will be safe to rest for a few days, love?”

“I believe so. If we're not safe directly under Athena's roof, then we are not safe anywhere.” Perhaps Athena could tell them what happened in Themiscyra after they fled. Killian nodded in agreement, letting go of her to slip his arm around her waist. It occurred to her that this was the very first time they could walk in a public place entwined like lovers. No manacles, no chains, no slavery. Emma tucked herself deeper into him, hoping to imprint this moment on her memory.

Athena's home lay on the edge of the city, far less grand than Emma expected. It too was built from clay in the Greek style, two floors, a center courtyard, cool tiles lining the floors. The first few drops of rain fell from the sky just as she rapped hard on the door. The trio huddled under the slight overhang in an effort to stay dry.

“This is a trap,” David muttered, but Killian glared at him. If Emma said she met Athena, he believed her. They had the blessing of the goddess; she would not let them down.

The door opened, a woman stood on the other side. She looked precisely the way Emma had described, but her mouth was quirked in a mischievous smirk. “A trap, Mycenaean? That is overly suspicious even for your people.” David bit on his tongue in his haste to apologize. “No matter. Please, come in.”

They stepped inside, thankful to be away from the storm. Thunder sounded; Killian flinched. The sound reminded him too much of the way Regina would rudely awaken him the few times he did manage to sleep. Emma looked concerned, but thankfully did not question him. He wanted to tell her, expel the poisonous memories fully, but something held him back. Emma believed him to be strong, her proud Spartan; how could he admit to being weak?

Athena noticed his discomfort. “Come, Spartan. I have someone you must meet.”

“I am fine.” Was his distress that obvious?

It stuck him how much her disguise suited her; she looked like a stern older mother. “Your Amazon has done an admirable job caring for you, do not betray her kindness and patience with stubbornness.”

Emma squeezed his hand, encouraging him. “We're here to rest, Killian. It's alright.”

He nodded glumly, following the goddess deeper into the house. All the rooms were furnished with plain but sturdy pieces, fitting for a middle aged woman living alone. It was dark, the wooden shutters closed against the storm. They could hear the rain lashing against the stone, the occasional rumble of thunder. Killian did not flinch again, though it took effort; he took a small bit of pride in that. He could do this, he could heal and be whole once more.

They avoided the courtyard; more rain splashed at the entrances as the curtains snapped and twisted in the sharp winds. Athena seemed impervious to it, guiding them toward the back of the house. “After you've seen my nephew, we shall get you all fed. Then I must insist you try and sleep. I am certain it has been a long and trying journey for you.”

“You are not coming with us?”

“What kind of hostess would I be if I did not arrange things for your comfort? Asclepius will tend you. He's very adept with his gift.”

Emma nodded her gratitude and gently urged Killian forward. The room they entered was small with only a a handful of small stools and a rough table as furnishings. A young beaded man with curly red hair sat at the table, absorbed in his cache of herbs and bowls, a mortar and pestle in his hand, muttering to himself. A tall staff leaned against the table, the top entwined with two snakes.

They waited a few moments, hoping he would notice them. When he did not, Emma cleared her throat. “Lord Asclepius?”

The god looked up, clearly startled. “Apologies, I was, ah, working on a new concoction as you can see. I tend to get very self contained when I am working on something new. A trait I get from my mother.” He colored, not seeming at all like a god. He seemed more like a nervous young man, caught making a treat for himself. “You must be my aunt's guests. Please, sit.”

Emma opened her mouth to speak, but Asclepius waved her silent. She was taken aback but waited and watched as the god came around the table and carefully studied each one of them. He turned their hands and arms over, grabbed each by the chin, moving their heads this way and that, all the while muttering to himself. Things like “yes” and “interesting” and “I wonder if...” Each time it appeared he had a solution, he would move on to the next observation. It was difficult to see if he was making any real progress or just cataloging them for his amusement.

At first, Killian sat stiff as a board, back straight, head upright. He did not want the god to think him weak, despite the wounds that still marred his body. But he could not ignore the gentleness in the god's touch, the sense of calm that came over him the longer he remained in Asclepius' presence. It reminded him strongly of Emma, earlier in the forest when she begged him to come back to her. He held onto that feeling, using it as an anchor in the turmoil of his mind.

“Artemis did this?” Asclepius said, startling Killian out of his thoughts.

The god knelt at his feet, cradling the formerly broken ankle. “Yes. It was badly sprained and swollen.”

“She did well.” The god touched it firmly with his index finger and suddenly any lingering pain in the joint was gone. “There, that's better. Who did these?” He pointed at Killian's eye and side.

“I did,” Emma said, smiling hopefully at Killian. “A poultice to draw out the infection.”

“Well done, my dear!” Asclepius looked absolutely delighted. “You could have a future in the healing arts!” Emma let the comment slide without reply. What she knew was very practical; she was not especially anxious to put those skills to use anytime soon. “Now we can do several different things about the rest of these...”

“Will they scar?” Killian asked.

“As you know, most of them are not deep. However...”

“In Themiscyra, we have a salve,” Emma cut in. “Could we use that?” She did not think it wise to rely too heavily on the god's power; they would need to learn to live their lives for themselves now. Asclepius was very interested in the salve and what it contained; Emma explained to the best of her recollection and his face lit up. “Yes! I can whip some up now, if you like. Perhaps you'll allow me to heal the worst of your wounds, Spartan?”

Killian would have been perfectly fine with the god healing all of his wounds; he could not fathom why Emma did not want that too. Every time she looked at him she would be reminded of the hell he went through. She deserved better than that. Still, he nodded. Perhaps later he could convince the god to finish the job.

Asclepius brushed his fingers over his swollen brow; the flesh knitted back together instantly, the pain gone. Killian peeled back the side of his makeshift clothing and exposed the healing wound in his side. One touch and that too was healed. “Thank you.”

“It is my gift,” the god said simply. “I am sure Athena is ready for you. I will bring the salve when it is finished. Rest and recover, my friend.”

Killian shied away from her touch as they headed in the direction of what normally would be the men's sitting room. Emma frowned, confused. Was he upset with her? Despite the progress he'd made back along the river, his moods were still unpredictable. Just what had Regina done to him? Knowing her aunt at she did, Emma shuddered to imagine some of the terrible things she _might_ have done to the man Emma loved. Regina had murdered James outright, but she wanted Killian to pay. It was not fair. He was a good man, a warrior, so dear and loving to her; Emma's heart broke for him. She needed to help him. She just hoped he could find a way to let her in.

Athena left them several low tables filled with food, but the goddess was nowhere in sight. However, a servant indicated that two rooms were ready for their use, after they had eaten. Emma thanked the girl and took a place at a table across from Killian. He was most definitely not himself and it frightened her. How could she make him believe that what happened was not his fault? That she loved him more than ever for surviving such horror? _Stay with me_ , her eyes pleaded. _I love you._

Killian hated himself, silently cursing his weakness. What kind of Spartan was he? First he got captured by Amazons, then botched his attempt to escape. And while he did not regret falling in love with Emma, nor the child they shared, he did not know if he could be the man she loved. He might be too broken inside. How could he have let Regina in his head? His main goal had been to stay alive long enough for _Emma_ to escape. He never expected to come with her. He never expected to see her again. When she appeared before him, he believed himself in a dream. A horrible dream where Regina could torment him with a vision of his love, the one pure thing in his life. Parents gone, brother dead, post abandoned, how could he have been so foolish as to believe he deserved good things? The man he'd been felt so far away; he did not know how to get him back.

After eating, they retreated to their rooms; David graciously took the smaller one. Emma took Killian's hand, smiling when he did not pull away. “The storm is subsiding,” she said gently. “You should be able to sleep now.”

“I am not an invalid, Emma. Do not treat me as if I am made of glass.”

Emma pulled the curtain closed behind her. “I never said you were. But we both should rest, we have been sleeping on a skiff for almost three days.”

He turned his back on her, frustrated. He hated feeling like this, like he did not know himself. “Then why not allow the god to heal me?” he snapped. “Rid me of these horrible marks! Marks your aunt _carved_ into my flesh!”

“Do you really believe me so shallow as to care about that? You already had scars, Killian!”

He marched away from her, hand running anxiously through his hair. “Damn it, Emma, do you not understand? _I hate this_. I hate myself. For not being strong enough, for letting that woman into my head.” He yanked on the wool, striping it from his worn, tired body, tearing it. “Is this the man you love? One who finches from Zeus' thunder, despises looking at his bare flesh? One so scarred should not be with one so lovely, Emma.”

Emma's throat was tight; her eyes brimmed with tears. Seeing him in so much pain was destroying her. Desperate, she unpinned her own clothing and let it fall to the floor. Nude, she slowly advanced, hands held out in front of her. Killian turned his face away, but did not move as she touched him. “I love you. It is killing me to see you like this. I loved you back in Themiscyra, but that does not compare to how I love you now. I am so sorry for putting you through this, for being so selfish. I tried to let you go, but you...you promised me, Killian. You promised we would find a way to stay together.” She tenderly cupped his bearded jaw and turned his head. He let her. “I do not care if you had a thousand scars, Spartan. Whatever Regina did to you...it is not your fault. You said you wanted to live so I could be free. So our child could live. We can not live a happy life without you. I am not going anywhere, no matter how much you may try to push me away.”

Her words sliced through him like a dagger; gods, he was a fool. He crushed her to his chest, a broken sob making him tremble from head to toe. “I don't know how to come back, love. I want to. Just when I think I am with you...”

She held him tight, rocking them slowly. “Let it out, my love. Let out the poison inside. It's alright.”

Another harsh sob shook him, they lost their balance. Both of them crashed to their knees, Emma wincing in pain but she ignored it. Killian needed her now. She cradled his head to her chest, rocking him as he cried. His long shuddering sobs twisted her gut, making her furious at Regina all over again. But the Queen was dead, unable to hurt anyone else ever again. When he finally began to settle, she kissed the top of his head sweetly. “Would you like to try and sleep?” He was still racked by nightmares, but she would be with him now. She would not leave him until he was better.

Killian nodded, in awe of her. How could such a warrior have such a loving heart? What had he done to deserve her love? He hugged around her middle, ducking down to kiss her belly. “Apologies, little love. Papa loves you very much.” He looked up at Emma, his cheeks still glistening with tears. “And I love you, Emma. Please believe that.”

She brushed his hair back. “We have all the time in the world now, Killian. We're free.”

He raised his head and kissed her, just a brief brush of lips but it soothed him. He did feel better, cleansed somehow. Not every day would be perfect, but he would try. For her. “You'll stay?”

“Of course. And if you wake, I will be _right here.”_ She helped him up, then let him slid onto the pallet on his own. Perhaps Killian had not been entirely wrong earlier. Hovering over him like a mother hen would not help him heal. She snatched up a blanket from nearby and brought it to cover them. She was surprised but gratified when Killian snuggled up beside her, his head on her chest. One large hand rested on her belly and she gladly became his pillow. Once he was still, she rhythmically ran her fingers through his hair until his breathing evened out. Certain he was asleep, Emma followed.

* * *

Killian woke up, wondering why his nose itched. It took a moment for his foggy mind to engage, a low groan on his lips. He rolled onto his back and there was no more itch. “Ugh.” He opened his eyes, surprised at how rested he felt. He had not felt like this since before he and Emma attempted to escape the first time. It had probably been that long he he'd had an uninterrupted night's sleep. It took even longer for more recent events to filter across his consciousness, arriving at the coast, Athena's offer of shelter. He scrubbed his hand over his face and remembered that it no longer pained him. Probing fingers told him his cut brow was healed, healed by a god.

Asclepius.

Shame crashed over him, recalling the things he'd said to Emma. How could he be so cruel and ungrateful? So faithless? She'd rescued him, putting both herself and their child in danger and he repaid her with selfishness and self pity. He did not deserve her. But gods, did he need her. He rolled back; Emma lay peacefully on her side, fast asleep. “I am so sorry, love,” he whispered. “I promise to do better. I need you so much.”

As carefully as he could, he molded his body to hers, wrapping an arm around her middle, cradling her belly. In the months to come his Amazon would grow round, her body protecting and nourishing their daughter. Killian was certain Emma would be even more beautiful than she was now, in a home of their own, preparing it for the little one. A new life, innocent and pure, a symbol of the love they shared. He didn't care what it took; he would be whole again for his family, he would beat this. It was just another enemy. He was a Spartan and Spartans did not lose.

Emma stirred, a low sleepy sound stuck in her throat. She leaned back against the warmth pressed to her back, humming as she tried to stretch. “Killian?”

“Sleep, love.”

A groan of disagreement came from her and she deliberately rolled over. “You sleep.”

“It's early; storm's passed.”

Emma glanced toward the window; sunlight filtered through the gaps in the wood. “Is it?”

She touched his cheek, he turned his head and tenderly kissed her palm. “Storms on the Aegean can be unpredictable, Princess. However, I believe the worst is over. No matter what comes next, I will be at your side.”

Emma's smile was soft, loving and she leaned in to kiss him. She intended it to be brief, sweet, an affirmation of her love, but Killian chased her lips, pulling her closer. He felt most like himself when he was with her, her beautiful naked body pressed to his, loving him. He silently vowed to himself that he would tell her, reveal all, and purge himself once and for all of the woman who hurt him. “Killian...”

“Let me love you,” he whispered, kissing along her jaw. “Let me make amends, darling.”

“You are...oh gods.” Emma arched, his hand palming her breast. “You are already forgiven.”

“Still...I want to. You are so good...you deserve to be worshiped.”

She cupped his cheeks and drew his mouth back to hers. She could feel her Spartan in his kiss, the man who always threatened to consume her, but never, ever did. He simply loved her, as a warrior, as a woman, as a mother to his children. She knew in that moment he would be alright. He would come back to her. She just had to light his way.

Killian rolled her onto her back, covering her with his body. Emma threaded her fingers in his hair, the other sliding down his spine. Some of his worst cuts were there, so she was careful, not pressing too hard. A line of wet kisses trailed down her neck, her lover paying special attention to her pulse as it jumped in her throat. “Yes,” she breathed, angling her head. “Mark me, Killian.”

He groaned, lips and teeth sucking an angry red mark into her throat, somewhere that could not be covered. He pulled back to admire his work, watch her chest heave. “Arms above your head.”

She did not hesitate to obey him, eager for whatever he wished to do to her. He tore a strip of cloth from the torn ragged wool and used it to tie her wrists together. “Too tight?”

“No, no, just...” A flash of heat rolled to her core. “Don't stop.” She could do this for him, completely surrender herself into his love and care, allow him to use her body as he wished. If it helped him feel a bit more in control, then she would give him whatever he wished.

Lust and desire burned in eyes as he drank in her supine form. She was still perfect, lean and toned with gentle curves that enticed him. He needed to kiss and lick every inch of her. He started with her feet, lightly massaging the arches, relishing her moan of pleasure. Emma balled her hands into fists, the sheet between her fingers so she would not be tempted to move her arms. With exquisitely tender hands, her Spartan massaged her legs, teasing sensitive patches with with lips and tongue. It was relaxing and erotic at the same time; she squirmed at the ache built in her core. “OH!” She jerked as he toyed with a sensitive spot on the back of her knee, one she did not know was there. Killian spread her thighs, kneeling between them, cock bobbing against his belly. Emma's mouth watered at the gorgeous sight, eager to lick the bead of liquid that leaked from the tip.

“Ah, ah, Princess. All in good time.” He craved her mouth on him, but he would decide when and how she got that treat. Instead he played with her, hands and mouth on her hips, sucking another mark into her belly. He touched her everywhere except where she needed him most, her sex wet and swollen, muscles clenching on nothing.

“Please,” she begged, arching. “Please!”

Killian grinned wickedly down at her but simply changed his focus, beard teasing her straining nipples. More angry red streaks marred her lovely skin but he did not let up, licking and swirling his tongue to soothe the sting. Emma swore her breasts were more sensitive, body rising up to meet him, desperate for more of his touch. He palmed both breasts, those rough soldier's hands and his even rougher touch causing every thought to fly from her mind. Killian looked down, her dripping sex at the perfect height for his cock. He wanted to bury himself in her heat and use her for his pleasure, but he refrained. Her pleasure was always more important than his.

“Look how wet you are for me, love. Such a wanton thing.”

“Ugh!” She let go of the sheet, trying to use her position to lift her hips so she could grind on his cock. It was right there and driving her crazy with need. Killian chuckled at her effort, leaning over so they rubbed together, hard against soft, her arousal clinging to his skin. Emma moaned, the friction so good after being denied.

“I love you,” he whispered, rocking his hips faster. He needed to see her fall apart for him, over and over again until she begged him to take her, to see without doubt how much she needed his touch, his body.

Emma started to bring her arms down but she caught herself at the last moment. “Need you,” she panted. “Need your hands all over me, your cock inside me. Please, Killian!”

“Soon, my darling,” he whispered, rocking his hips faster. He was rubbing directly on her clit and she arched into it, rutting her hips like a wild animal. “That's it, come for me. Coat my cock in your juices so you can lick me clean.”

Emma whined, her body coiling tight, she was almost there, almost there. She screamed as it crashed over her, spasming as her body gushed fluid. It was so intense she nearly blacked out; she'd never felt that before. But everything she knew about sex came from being with the man atop her. The only man she would ever know or ever wished to know. Killian was the only one who could play her body so perfectly.

“Fucking hell,” he gasped, awed by the wetness that ran down his abdomen in rivulets. He untied her, tossing the wool aside as he kissed up her belly. “You are magnificent.”

“More.” It was hardly more than a whisper, but with each wheezing pant her body came back to life. She would not be satisfied until he'd wrung every last drop of pleasure from her body and she from his. She took her now free hands and gripped his shoulders with surprising strength. Killian shivered; his woman was an Amazon, a strong fierce warrior with an equally intense appetite for the sexual arts. He covered her mouth with his, pouring out his passion for her. This he remembered, this was his home, his center and safe place.

“Go on, love. Have your treat,” he purred, nipping at her collar. “Taste yourself on my cock.”

She hummed happily, ducking between his splayed knees. She licked a warm stripe long the ridge; he was so heavy and hard in her hand. His skin still glistened in her copious release; she still could not believe it had come from her. Killian wove his fingers into her hair, pulling it back from her face as she licked and laved at him, one hand stroking him, the other fondling his sac. He groaned, fighting the need to rut into her touch, the primal urge to possess her. “Gods yes.”

Emma smiled up at him, her tongue darting out to lap at the fluid leaking from his tip. Salty but with a tang she loved. She could spend hours right here, just tasting him. “Mine.” She took him into her mouth, as deeply as she could, his low grunts and moans making her wet once more. She ached for him, her body screaming for its other half.

Killian watched her with heavy lidded eyes, fists knotted in her hair. The pale bare expanse of her back, the rounded and soft globes of her ass taunted him, begged for his touch. He gathered her hair in one hand slowly slid the other up her back as she sucked his cock. “So gorgeous, my princess.”

Emma hummed in response, involuntarily trying to inch closer. She released him with a wet pop, a moan on her lips. “Please. Please touch me.”

“Rest your head, love.” Emma lay her head on the pallet, still between his legs, inhaling the strong scent of him. Hair tumbled around her head as he let go, two hands now sliding down her back. The roughness was heaven on her smooth skin; she shivered in anticipation. Still, he teased her, massaging her muscles as he worked toward her ass. He had to inch forward a bit so they didn't tip over, leaving him bent over her kneeling form, his cock rubbing her back. But now he could toy with his prize. He gave her ass a hard pinch, reveling in her groan of pleasure. Encouraged, he kneaded the tender flesh, spreading the cheeks. He could smell her arousal, see some sliding down her thighs. It was intoxicating, the knowledge that he could turn his powerful Amazon into a vessel of pure wanton need.

Emma stretched her arms out in front of her, fingers curling in the sheets. She could feel the silky smooth slide of his cock along her back, his hips lightly rocking as he teased and tormented her. She jerked went she felt something warm and wet on her skin, a place almost completely untouched. “Oh gods.”

Her words were muffled but he could make them out. It encouraged him and he kept licking the puckered flesh. He slid one arm under her hips to hold her up and maneuvered the other between her legs, deftly stroking the wet tender folds. “Hold still.” She tried, she did, but then his fingers were inside her, stretching her, stroking her and Emma shuddered, unintelligible sounds spilling from her lips. Killian went back to licking her hole, fucking her hard with his fingers, eager to make her come again. It coiled low in her belly, Emma's grip on the sheets ripping the fabric when she finally exploded, her scream bouncing off the clay walls. Surely any passerby could hear her, but she found that she did not care. Her Spartan was a god among men and it did not matter who knew it. Ripples of aftershocks gripped her as he continued to stroke her swollen sex, his low whispered praise working its magic, making her want more. She prayed she never got enough of him.

Killian pulled his hand away, slick with her juices. It had not been as intense as the first but seeing his lover climax was his joy. He haphazardly wiped his hand on the sheet, then flopped on his back tugging her atop him. Emma rubbed against him like a cat, her mouth finding his in a slow languid kiss. “Love the things you do to me,” she muttered, finding his hand. She brought it to her lips and licked it clean. “Need you.”

“Emma...”

She placed a finger to his lips. “Shhh.” She began to undulate her hips, once again rubbing her intimate flesh against his. As her desire built, she kissed his torso, tending to every scab, every reddened line she could see. She worshiped him the way he had her; he wasn't broken or undesirable to her. He was strong, masculine, her warrior, her partner, her Spartan. By the time she reached his waist, he was trembling, his body screaming for relief from the torment and his soul for more of her touch. He could not express the balm she was to his wounded heart and mind, how her patience and love was helping him heal. He vowed to never give into doubt again, not when this exquisite creature owned his heart, body and soul, as broken and unworthy as they were.

“Emma.”

She looked up, awe and need warring on his handsome face. She would not have cared if Asclepius had not healed his brow; he was already perfect to her. She placed a tender kiss to the tip of his weeping cock before settling back over his hips. She tugged lightly on his hands and he sat up, strong arms sliding around her back. This time as she raised her hips and sank down on him, she kept her gaze locked with his, black on black, her own need reflected in his eyes. In that moment, they were one, one flesh, one mind, one soul. She wrapped her arms around the wounded and frayed pieces of him and strengthened the bond between them, slowly grinding on his lap. Killian did not know how long they stared into each other's eyes, passion and love and healing flowing through him. He could not take it, fusing his mouth on hers, consuming her with ravenous kisses, hands warm and rough on her hips. He urged her to ride him faster, harder, her legs burning with the effort. “Emma, Emma, Emma,” he chanted, face buried in the crook of her neck.

“Oh yes,” she panted, still riding him, her rhythm faltering, her strength finally beginning to fail. “So good, Killian. Feels _so good.”_

He flopped them back on the pallet, his knees up, using the leverage to fuck her hard and fast. She found one of his hands and gripped it tight in hers, hanging on for dear life as he rode her into sweetest oblivion, her body spasming atop him, her mouth open in a silent scream. He followed her quickly, muttering something that might have been her name as he jerked and spilled his seed. He felt boneless, breathless, but mercifully at peace.

They fell asleep in virtually the same position, wrapped tightly in each other's arms, the storm well and truly passed.

* * *

The house was eerily quiet and had been for some time. He'd been woken up some hours earlier by screaming; it took several panicked seconds to recognize them as screams of pleasure. David sagged back into his own pallet, embarrassed to be listening to his friends' lovemaking, but hopeful that it meant they were working things out. He'd noticed the change in Killian after their encounter with the healing god, the frustration. David could only imagine what the Queen had done to him; in truth, he did not want to know. Perhaps that made him a coward, but he was Mycenaean not Spartan. Killian's people were trained to be warriors; David's were mostly scholars and farmers. He had meant to follow in his father's footsteps, but he'd gone off to war just like everyone else. Helen, after all, was his king's sister in law. They were told it was their duty.

David tried to go back to sleep, but it was impossible. The walls of the house did nothing to hide the sounds of what was happening just down the hall. It reminded him strongly of Themiscyra and David still was unsure how he felt about what happened to him there. Aside from never wanting it to happen again. He got up, surprised to find a fresh length of wool laid out for him. He arranged it loosely around his hips, hoping to find a bath. After some exploring he found one on the first floor; strangely the rest of the house seemed empty. He supposed Athena had other matters to attend to; he was still trying to wrap his head around being in the home of an actual goddess. Artemis he might have imagined, but Athena spoke to him, seemed to know him without ever having met him before. It was disconcerting to say the least.

Once he was clean, he strolled through the courtyard. Everything was still wet and soggy but the storm was gone. Crisp blue skies greeted him; the sun rising ever higher in the sky. He hoped it dried things out so they could leave this place. He wished to be as far from the land of the Amazons as possible.

_What if Elsa carries your child?_ David scowled, not wanting to think about that. They did not even know of Elsa was still alive. Bravely, she'd taken on the palace guard to give them time to flee. She'd _told_ him to go, to be free. He was grateful. Elsa had not treated him badly, all things considered. In other circumstances, he might have come to care for her. He was a little afraid he _did_ care, just a little, and that made him feel guilty for being happy to be free. But the very idea of slavery choked him and he wished he'd had the stomach to try and escape like Killian had. Once he saw his friend give in to the demands of the Queen, he thought it best to accept his lot and pray for the best.

When Elsa told him of her friend's confession, he never expected she would include him in the escape. But Emma's plea had not fallen on deaf ears. He and Killian were probably the first to escape the insane ritual of the Amazons; he supposed that meant Elsa cared for him. _I hope you are well, Elsa_.

“She is alive.”

David jumped, spinning on his heel. “Oh, it's you.”

Athena—still disguised at Alexa—nodded, stepping into the courtyard. “Indeed, Mycenaean.” She lifted her basket. “I was out fetching my guests some some food.”

“Why? If you're a goddess can you not simply make it appear?”

“I could but where is the fun in that? For as long I am here, it is imperative I maintain this disguise. There are forces that would still see Killian and his Amazon fail in their quest.”

“Quest? To where?”

“They are following in the path of some of Emma's sisters; there is an island in the Aegean that harbors Amazons who have fled with their chosen mates. It is rare but it has happened.”

David blinked, nonplussed. He supposed it was a good thing that other Amazons were as enlightened as Emma, but the whole thing left him with an uneasy feeling. He wished to ask more questions but Athena was already leaving, off to prepare a meal for her guests. David returned to the sitting room, needing time to think. It seemed that Killian and Emma had a very specific path ahead; the question was: what was his path? Return home? Try to return to Troy? He was certain his comrades—those that remained—assumed him dead. A half dozen times, he believed that would be his fate. Now he had the choice.

Emma stretched, promptly losing her balance and tumbling off her human pillow. Killian grumbled in his sleep, immediately rolling toward her. She laughed to herself, smiling at how peaceful he looked. Once again, he'd slept without nightmares. Deep down, she knew the worst was over, but she would continue to watch over him. Perhaps not as closely as before; she did not wish to stifle him.

“Humph, where did my blanket go?”

Emma snuggled closer to him. “Here, my Spartan.” She kissed the hollow of his throat, feeling him shiver beneath her lips. “We fell asleep.”

Killian rubbed her back idly, basking in her warmth. “As I recall, we had sufficient reason.”

“The sun is well overhead, it must be near midday.”

“Hmm.” He was in such a warm happy cocoon; he did not want to leave. Here it was only Emma and no ghosts haunting him.

She gently ran her fingers through his hair. It was shaggier than she remembered. “As much as I would like to, we should get up. Bathe. Eat?” David was around somewhere; they needed to regroup and decide what to do next. Even with Athena's protection, she did not think it wise to linger over long. The sooner they could begin building their new life on Porphyris, the better.

Eventually, Emma coaxed Killian out of bed. Fresh clothing and the salve lay just inside the door to their room. Covering themselves just enough for modesty's sake, they found the bath, scrubbing away the last vestiges of the wild from their skin. Killian made love to her again, recalling happier times, another bath, only this time making her shudder in ecstasy, water splashing around them. When they were finished, Emma took the salve and applied a thin coating to his cuts and scrapes. They were just beginning to heal and this would hopefully ensure they left very little if any mark on his skin. Emma did not think she would ever forget where each one was or the state he'd been in when she found him, battered but alive.

Killian took her hands in his as she finished. “Thank you, my love. Not just for this, but...I am so sorry about my outburst last night. You did not deserve that.”

“You are forgiven a thousand times over, Killian. I can not imagine how hard that time was for you. If you need to shout and scream about it, I will be here. And if you just want to talk, I will listen. We are free of all that now.”

He pulled her against his chest, despite the salve on his skin. He felt better when he held her. “I love you.”

“And I you, my Spartan.” She stood up on her toes and chastely kissed him. They moved to dress, Killian moving much better now that the worst of his wounds were healed. He led the way toward the smell of food, his stomach growling. His hunger was almost back to normal and the food he smelled was _not_ half cooked rabbit. Thank the gods.

“I thought the smell of food would rouse you.” Athena smiled at them, waving her hand over the feast. “Please. Eat.”

David scooted over to give them room. He washed down a mouthful of roasted nuts with some wine. “Sleep well?”

Emma nodded. “Much better actually.”

“A soft pallet is definitely preferable to the hard ground.” David looked toward the goddess. “Thank you.”

“You are under my protection, it is the least I can do. However, you are not entirely out of danger yet. While you are safe within these walls, it will not be long before others are alerted to your presence. It is imperative we get you on a ship Porphyris as quickly as possible.”

The hairs on Emma's arms stood up. She thought they would be safe once they left Themiscyra? Why could no one leave them be?

“I'm afraid, Emma, that is a complicated question.”

All eyes—except Athena's—looked toward the new voice. Artemis once again appeared as she had in the temple, a young maiden with a head topped with bronze curls. All three mortals knelt. “Lady Artemis.”

“It was not my intention to disturb your meal. Please, eat.” She touched a finger to an empty plate, it filled with fruit and something golden Emma did not recognize.

Athena frowned. “Really, sister? I've gone to all this trouble of a disguise.”

“I don't know why you bother; it's not like any of those carvers have actually seen you.”

Athena huffed. “Fine.” The old woman melted away and in her place sat an auburn haired beauty with soft brown eyes. Emma scowled, recalling that this woman had touched Killian with far more familiarity than was called for, even if it had been a dream.

Artemis noticed Emma's annoyed look but chose to say nothing. The Amazon may be a mortal but she was a great warrior. She'd defend her own if provoked. It amused her. “Yes, well, back to the matter at hand. I promised you answers and you shall have them.” She popped a grape and a piece of ambrosia into her mouth. “Although looking at this fine feast, I have to admit to being curious. Athena, did you make this like a mortal?”

“Artemis,” Athena said warningly. She had never been especially _close_ to her sister, but Artemis was deliberately trying her patience. “Time is of the essence, wouldn't you agree?”

“Of course. However, we do have a little time as my twin is...occupied at the moment.”

“Apollo?” Killian cut in. “Forgive my presumption, but why would he be interested in us?”

“An excellent question, Spartan.” Artemis smiled kindly; meeting him in the flesh, she could see why Emma adored him so. He was indeed very handsome, but there was something about him, an innate masculinity that even an Amazon would be drawn to. They were clearly two halves of one soul, like she and Orion had been. It was for that reason, she was determined to stop her brother. She did not care what Aphrodite had promised him. “You recall my brother is the god of prophecy?”

“The Oracle at Delphi,” David said. “But we've never been to Delphi.”

“That Oracle only proclaims a mere fraction of all the _true_ prophecies in the world. My brother has access to _all_ of them. Why do you think he seeks distraction in music and poetry? It can be quite overwhelming.”

“Access to all that knowledge is such a burden.” Was Athena being sarcastic? Emma silently chuckled to herself; no wonder she was the patron goddess of Sparta.

“Knowledge from a certain point of view, sister,” Artemis chided. “You know as well as I that not all prophecies come true. The future is not written.”

Athena nodded sagely. “Very true. It is why this war continues to go on.”

“What is the prophecy?”

It was Artemis who spoke. “I do not know the exact wording, but it does not matter. It is what some of the other gods...”

“Aphrodite,” Athena snapped. “Do not be coy, Artemis. This whole war is her fault.”

They all knew the story. Eris offered a golden apple to the fairest of the goddesses, a prize claimed by Aphrodite, Athena and Hera. Unable to chose among them, Zeus bade the Trojan Prince Paris to choose. He choose Aphrodite after she bribed him with with the most beautiful mortal in the world, Helen of Sparta, now Helen of Troy. The war had been going on for nearly a decade now, many had died over the fate of one woman.

“The Greeks are closing in on the city,” Artemis said quietly. “It won't be long now. Which is why we must hurry.”

“Is that why you were, ah, delayed?” Emma asked. She tried not to sound impertinent but Killian's suffering stuck in her crawl.

“As a matter of fact it was. Fighting broke out just as you were attempting to flee and Apollo requested I stay. What I did not know was that Aphrodite had put him up to it, in order to protect her precious son. She stole one of her husband's traps and used it on me.”

“Hephaestus?”

“He was furious,” Athena said. “I managed to conceal him through the lines so he could free Artemis.” She nodded toward Killian. “I am sorry we could not get there sooner.”

Killian took Emma's hand in his. “We are safe now, lady. That is all that matters.”

“That still does not explain why Apollo would want to keep Artemis from reaching you,” David said. “What exactly is this prophecy?”

“It is said that a warrior of Troy will survive to be progenitor to a new race, somewhere to the west.” Artemis nodded at Emma and Killian. “You are both warriors of Troy. And you, Emma, already carry a child within you, with the promise of more. And you are a granddaughter of Ares. Aphrodite wishes this new race to be born of her son, Aeneas.”

“We simply want to get to Porphyris,” Emma argued. “We do not wish to build some new race.”

“That is a question for future generations.” Athena looked stern but kind. “However, there is no denying the power of your bloodline. An Amazon and a Spartan? With children raised in a place where men and women are considered true equals? There are those that would see it as a threat.”

“Like my aunt did.”

“Precisely.”

Emma looked the goddess in the eye. “Will we be safe in Porphyris?”

“Yes. We simply have to get you there. Although, I must warn you. Life there will carry its own challenges.”

“We're ready,” Killian said, head held high. Emma loved him so much for that. “It is worth it to raise our family in freedom.”

“Very well. Tomorrow, Alexa will place you on a trading vessel bound for the island.” Athena looked to David. “And you? Where will you go?”

David frowned, uncertain. “Elsa, is she...?”

“Elsa?” Emma cried. “She's alive?”

“Athena told me earlier.”

Emma breathed a sight of relief, a weight she had not known she was carrying suddenly lifted. “Thank Zeus. I had hope.”

“Speaking of your friend,” Artemis said, dipping her hand into her quiver, “she bade me give you this.” The goddess handed her a thick package, wrapped in cloth. Emma unwrapped it, revealing her mother's letter and other trinkets. She'd nearly forgot about them, which shamed her. She believed them lost forever. “Thank you, Huntress.”

“It is my pleasure. I liked your mother.” She fixed David with a look. “The answer to your question, Mycenaean, is yes. However, I must warn you that in the power struggle that followed your flight, Elsa won the role of Queen in single combat.”

“Single combat?” Emma looked up, startled. The practice had not been used in more than a century.

“A hard fought victory, I witnessed it myself. The Amazons are in good hands.”

“But Elsa is with child?” David said, still disbelieving.

“She is.” The goddess handed him a scroll. “I would suggest you read this, then make your choice.”

* * *

The next day saw Emma and Killian boarding one vessel, David another. He was going home to Mycenae. Not forever. Elsa promised that when the war was over, if he wished it, he could come see his child, which Elsa planned on keeping, regardless of sex. As Artemis had said, it would take time for the Amazons to truly change their ways. Emma had begun something momentous, something that would grow and come to flourish under Elsa's guidance. Emma wished her well and prayed that somehow they would see each other again.

“Coming below, love?”

Emma wrapped her arms around herself, shivering the wind. Her eyes remained locked on the land they were leaving behind. “Not yet. I've never been on a ship before.”

Killian slipped his arms around her waist from behind, understanding her perfectly. “Then I shall stay with you.”

 


	9. Chapter 9

Killian held out the two wooden bowls, trying to keep his face impassive. The ship's supplies dwindled day by day, hour by hour; the passengers were growing restless. It was a trading vessel, originally out of Athens, bound for the southern most islands. Athena—in her guise as Alexa—bribed the captain to add a port call at Porphyris; Artemis agreed to do her best to keep their pursuers away. A kind offer, but if the winds did not come soon, not even the goddess could hide them forever. Apollo and Aphrodite could have spies everywhere; he would not feel safe until they landed in their new home.

Right now he thought it far more likely the crew and passengers would turn on each other first.

After the cook ladled in their ration of food (which looked fit for beast not man), Killian hurried back to their quarters. It was cramped, deep below decks, but given the ugly mood, he considered it a blessing. Emma was there by herself, feeling unwell. He had heard tales of women showing signs of sickness when pregnant; between that and the slow rocking of the ship, it was no wonder. She was one of the few women on board; Killian had caught some of the men eying her. Early on, it hadn't worried him—Emma could more than take care of herself, her dagger always strapped to her thigh—but the longer they remained becalmed, the greater the danger.

People had a nasty tendency to turn brutal, as he recalled all too well when the great fleet sailed for Troy.

After three days of no wind, the passengers certainly were becoming edgy, at the very least.

He knocked softly to announce his presence then stepped inside. The room was tiny, hardly large enough for two people, but it was all they had. Most of the passengers didn't have a room at all, sleeping in the communal areas with the crew, one deck above the hold. Part of the goddess' bribe was to give her charges some privacy, in an effort not to attract attention to themselves. They would not be truly safe until they reach Porphyris.

“How are you feeling?” Killian managed to balance his precious cargo and sit at the same time, an impressive feat with the rocking ship.

Emma lay curled in a ball beside him, feeling miserable. “How did you sail all the way from Sparta?” she asked plaintively.

He laid the bowls aside and drew her head into his lap. “It's the babe, love. Our little one is making you unwell. Remember how much you love the water?”

She groaned. “It does not feel that way right now.”

“It will. Perhaps our new home will allow us to indulge you. We enjoyed swimming together.”

“That would be nice.”

He combed his fingers through her hair, hoping to mitigate her discomfort. Being raised in Sparta, he possessed a strong constitution; rocking seas did not affect him. He felt at home here on the water, something he'd hoped to share with his Amazon. Unfortunately, her delicate condition had finally begun to catch up with them. Things would be better for her once they were on dry land, he was sure of it.

“Do you think you can eat? I brought our ration.”

“No wind yet?”

“Not yet. It will come soon.” He truthfully did not know, but he was desperate to keep Emma's spirits up. They were so close to having the life they wanted; she needed that hope. She'd taken such good care of him after their flight, this was the least he could do. When they got settled, they could marry, build a home together. She made him believe they could have it, in his darkest hours.

She sighed. “Cold gruel is even worse than hot gruel, so I suppose I should try.” Her hand rested on her belly; if not for her daughter, she would not risk it. But her child needed the nourishment. The queasiness was the first true sign of her condition, not one she enjoyed. However, it was proof, proof that her love for Killian was a real tangible thing and not some awful hallucination.

Killian helped her sit up, arranging a threadbare blanket around her legs. “Go slow, love. I'm right here.”

She nodded gratefully, accepting the bowl. The smell gave her a fresh wave of nausea, but she ignored it, tipping the bowl back carefully. The gruel—still warm—didn't taste any better than it smelled, but she got most of it down. She prayed that it stayed down. It was humiliating, Killian cleaning her up or holding her hair as she threw up. He never complained though. She could sense that looking after her gave him a sense of purpose; she didn't want to begrudge him that after what he'd gone though.

“Would you like to sleep some more, Princess?”

Emma shook her head. “Do you think...we could go topside? Getting some air might help.”

He recalled the caged look in the eyes of some of the crew, made useless by their lack of wind. Still, he could not deny her. The fact of the matter was their quarters were cramped and damp; none of that could be good for Emma or their baby. “Very well. I would advise wrapping up, it is starting to become quite chilly in the evenings.”

The goddesses gifted them with a few changes of clothing and blankets before putting them on the ship; the wool of her peplos was rough on her skin, but Emma paid it no mind. She'd experienced worse on the battlefield. Before the queasiness had come, Emma's mind swirled with conflicting emotions: elation to finally be free, sadness at leaving the only home she'd ever known. The latter confused her; Themiscyra had turned into a nightmare, her people turned against her. Still, it represented stability and safety. They were leaping into an unknown and it was frightening. Was this how Snow felt when she tried to run away with James? More and more, Emma turned to the letters from Snow, hoping her mother's words would soothe her fears. The more she read, the more she appreciated Snow's bravery, both in her choice to flee and her choice to raise her daughter after James' untimely death. Snow missed her love but found some measure of solace in Emma.

Thankfully, Emma had Killian beside her, offering his comfort freely. He was doing much better since leaving the coast, his nightmares fewer in number. He was so patient with her illness, with her moods; Emma felt a little guilty about it because she could sense he wanted to talk. He wanted to unburden himself, but would not worry her while they were traveling. Not to mention all the prying eyes and ears. She did not miss the looks from some of the men on board. While Emma was not afraid, she did not want to fight. She was _tired;_ the stress of traveling, the uncertainty of their new home, her pregnancy, and worry about Killian all took their toll on her physically.

“Ready, love?”

Emma smiled weakly. “Lead on, Spartan.”

Below decks was cramped, especially for Killian. His height was unusual; when Emma commented on it, he just smiled and reminded her that his brother had been even taller. Would their children inherit his height? His blue eyes? It was so easy for her to just get lost in the beauty of him, then imagine what their children would look like, be like.

They passed several of the crew on their way topside; far too many of them were idle. While primarily a trading vessel, the master of the ship was not averse to taking on passengers to add to his earnings. Unfortunately, there were only a half dozen other women on board; one of them was clearly bound to the ship, little more than a slave. They did not see the poor woman on their way above, but they did pass the other couples, none of them offering acknowledgement as they passed. Early on, Emma and Killian decided to keep to themselves; Artemis had warned them about Aphrodite's penchant for persuading mortals to do her bidding. _Be wary of everyone_ , the goddess had said.

Salty sea air filled her lungs the moment they got topside; Emma breathed deeply, her stomach settling a bit. Killian held her loosely by the waist, his hand rubbing her hip soothingly. “A beautiful evening, is it not?”

She ran her fingers over the wooden rail, listening to the ocean lap against the hull. “It is. Do you know where we are?”

He looked up at the cloudless night sky. “Aye. Would you like me to teach you?”

“Yes, please.” Gently, Killian drew her in front of him, wrapping both arms around her waist, hands resting protectively over her belly. A butterfly kiss to her temple, then he began to paint his picture, his voice low and reassuring in her ear as he described the formations in the heavens. Emma relaxed considerably, all thoughts of queasiness or illness flying from her mind. This was a glimpse of what the rest of their lives could be like. Peaceful nights in their own home, entwined like lovers, indulgently watching their children play. Emma never expected to find true peace in her life; now that it was so close, she craved it.

Standing on deck, the winds teased them, brief lazy puffs that skimmed over their skin, ruffled Killian's hair. Nowhere near enough to get them moving. The ship's lone sail hung limp, mocking crew and passengers alike. Emma was not sure how much longer they could go on like this, not really moving, just floating with the current. She had the feeling that Killian was deliberately shielding her from the worst of their situation; she wasn't sure how she felt about that.

“What about that one?” she asked, pointing.

“Ah, you would find that one,” he chuckled. “That is Orion, the hunter.”

“Oh.” She thought of Artemis. Did she look up into the heavens every night? Did it hurt? Her brother's cruel joke cost her Orion; the only way to save him was for Zeus to place him in the heavens. The one place he could truly be immortal. Instinctively, she turned and hugged Killian close. If not for Artemis's kindness and protection, that might have been her Spartan's fate.

“Emma?”

“I was thinking about Artemis. It is sad, what happened to Orion. And yet...she helped us.”

“Do you know what happened when we set sail for Troy?” Emma shook her head against his chest. “Well, we were in a situation much like this. A thousand ships loaded with men, ready to sail, yet there was no wind. For days we floated in the Aegean, men growing restless. Rumors swirled; men began to believe we'd offended the gods somehow. Liam thought it was nonsense, but I did not. Deep down I knew something was preventing us from sailing.”

“What was it?”

“Artemis. Our commander, Agamemnon, had offended her. The soothsayers all agreed that the only way to appease the goddess was to sacrifice his eldest daughter.”

“No!” Shock and revulsion gripped her; how could anyone believe that? And why did men always believe that sacrificing a woman was the answer?

“It did not sit well with many a man, love.”

“What happened?”

“A deer was sacrificed instead. No one knows why.” It would be fanciful to believe that the great and arrogant Agamemnon cared enough about his child to truly be squeamish about sacrificing her. He was willing to send thousands of Greeks to their deaths simply to bring back his brother's wife. Knowing the goddess as he now did, Killian suspected she asked for a different sacrifice, sparing the poor girl.

“Did the winds come?”

“They did and so began almost ten years of war.”

Emma shivered; she knew all too well the horrors her Spartan must have seen. The fact he was still sane, so genuine and loving, was a testament to his character. She loved him so much in that moment. “I hope our next ten years is peaceful.”

“Could you be happy, Princess? You are a warrior, as am I.” He brushed a lock of her hair back, her eyes shining in the low moonlight. “Are you ready to settle down with our family?”

“A warrior is not all that you are, Spartan.”

“I could say the same about you, Emma. But it is one of my favorite things about you.”

“Amazons have been warriors and mothers for centuries, Killian. I am blessed to be sharing this life with you. If our new home requires us to fight, we will fight. But all I truly need is you and our children to be happy.”

Killian ducked his head and slanted his lips over hers. She hummed into his kiss, sliding one hand into his hair. For the first time in days she felt sparks on her skin, a thrum of desire roll down her spine. His hand tightened at the small of her back, pressing her flush against his hard body. “Emma...”

“It is okay,” she breathed, deepening the kiss.

Overtaxing her or using her for his pleasure when she felt so poorly was the last thing he wanted. But she was warm and soft, her kisses insistent and filled with passion. Passion he'd sorely missed. Abruptly, he scooped her up, intent on taking her below.

“Planning on sharing, Spartan?”

Killian came up short and put Emma down, a scowl marring his face. “I will pretend I did not hear that. Now get out of our way.”

The man who'd spoken stepped into a sliver of moonlight, a wineskin in his hand. He was short and stocky, but strong; Killian knew him to be one of the oarsmen. The ship only had four, unlike a warship. The oarsmen were primarily responsible for guiding the trading vessel into port or navigating shallow waters. Becalmed on the open ocean meant that the oarsmen had very little to do; it made no sense to waste their energy rowing now, particularly in light of the dwindling rations.

“You shouldn't keep the lady all to yourself, Spartan. Give the rest of us a chance.” He reached out one grubby hand and Emma slapped it away angrily. But either the man was too drunk to care or completely oblivious because he merely laughed at her. “Come now, woman, I can show you a better than than this animal.” He reached for Emma again and she didn't hesitate. She grabbed his arm and wrenched it behind him, her dagger appearing out of nowhere to touch his throat.

“Touch me again and I will castrate you, worm,” she hissed in his ear. His breath smelled awful, stale and noxious, but she held her ground. “Do we understand each other?”

“What are you?” the man squeaked.

Killian chuckled darkly. “You have made the grave mistake of getting handsy with an Amazon. I would suggest you heed her warning.” He took the wineskin away and tossed it carelessly over the side. “Run along now.”

Emma felt the man shudder in fear; she felt a sense of satisfaction as she released him and watched him scamper off. She resheathed her dagger and threw herself at Killian, kissing him hungrily. Back in Themiscyra, their sparring often led to some intensely satisfying sex; there was just something about the tease of violence that made her want him. This was the most alive Emma had felt since they set sail and she needed him.

“Killian...”

“Are you sure, love?” He rested his forehead on hers, his hands on her hips. He craved her; it had been almost a week since they set sail for Porphyris. Almost immediately, her health had been poor and unpredictable, making sex irrelevant. But gods, did he want her.

She nodded, stealing a kiss from his lips. “Please. I need you.”

He nodded back, taking her hand in his. They hurried below once more, weaving in and out of the other occupants to the short ladder that would take them to their tiny quarters. Emma climbed down first, feeling her way to the makeshift pallet. It was pitch black but it did not deter her. She unpinned her peplos, shedding the scratchy wool to use as another blanket. Killian found her in the dark, covering her body with his, slipping between her splayed thighs. She mewled, hands fumbling but finding his cheeks to draw his lips to hers. Desire coursed through her, a hungry desperate need for him to possess her, to claim her as his.

“Emma...”

“Missed you,” she mumbled. “Missed you so much.”

Her hands slid under his clothing, nailing scoring down his chest. “Been right here, love.” He kissed and nipped at her throat, his hands gliding along her curves. He knew her body so well that he did not need his sight to pleasure her. The thin cloth was all that separated them and Emma yanked hard on the knots holding it together. It fell away, her small hands shoving it away impatiently.

“Hmmm, better.”

Killian chuckled low in his throat. “The Princess wants her Spartan naked?”

She ran her fingers through his chest hair; she could feel the way his muscles trembled and flexed under her touch. “Gods yes. Feels so good on my skin.”

“Fuck.” He kissed her hard and rough, griding his hips into hers. She was damp and getting wetter, a wild thing under him. He turned them on their sides, hands cupping her breasts, thumbs rubbing deliciously over her nipples. They pebbled and tightened, Emma arching into his touch. Her groan echoed in the tiny space, his mouth hot on the sensitive flesh. Nails scratched at his scalp, sending shivers of want down his spine. “Ugh, so perfect, love.”

Emma canted her hips toward him, growing desperate for friction. “You can't...oh gods...see me.”

“Don't care.” He sucked hard on her left nipple, slipping his knee between hers. Emma gripped his biceps with surprising strength, grinding her hips over his thigh. She'd been so miserable the last few days; if she needed him, who was he to deny her? He lashed at her nipple, her little sighs and moans going straight to his aching cock. “So needy, love.”

She huffed, one hand slipping between them to grasp his cock. His low groan was very gratifying. “Gods, just fuck me.”

He chuckled. “Ah, ah. Not until I've had a taste of you.” The space was cramped, but he would make due. He urged her to sit up, her back against the rough wood. Legs bent, knees spread, Killian flopped down between them and licked a long stripe with the flat of his tongue. She tasted divine and smelled even better, her desire for him heady and sweet. He parted her lower lips with his fingers, lapping at her like a man starved.

Emma squirmed against him, her hips rocking against his mouth, one hand fisted in his hair. Curses tumbled from her lips, eager for more of his talented tongue, yet not ready for him to stop touching her. He alternated between playing with her clit and plunging his tongue inside her, bringing her perilously close to orgasm. Over and over and over until she was weeping with the need to come. “Please!” she gasped, her thighs trembling. “Please!”

Listening to his Amazon beg for release was a powerful pull, the knowledge that he alone could make her feel like this, that he was the man she wanted, the man she craved. He plunged two fingers deep inside her hole, fucking her hard and fast, mouth clamped down on her clit. Emma exploded, bucking jerkily against her lover's hand, dragging out the incredible high. “Fuck! Fuck!”

“Love the way you taste,” he murmured, licking her clean. Still gasping for breath, he pulled her down onto the pallet, his wet fingers tracing her lips. Emma moaned, her tongue darting out to lick and tease. Pleasure and want coursed through her, her core pulsing as she tasted herself. His cock was hot and hard against her belly, she needed him inside her. Emma pushed at his shoulders, rolling them over, grunts echoing in the space as his back hit the stiff wood. But he relished how eager she was for him, how she felt confident enough in herself to take what she wanted. There was some fumbling in the blackness, Emma's mouth hot on his as she rolled and canted her hips, desperate to get him inside her heat.

“Slow down,” he murmured, curling his hand around her hip. He found her hand between them, rubbing the tip of his cock over her swollen wet flesh. Emma mewled, teeth digging into her plump lower lip. When they found the right angle, her breath caught in her throat, her body stretching to let him in.

“Fuck yes,” she panted, hands braced on his chest. “So _good_.”

Pleasure threatened to overtake him; her body still quivered from her first high, her walls rippling along his length with every drive of her hips. He touched every part of her he could reach, tweaking her nipples, skimming over her belly, feeling the muscles flex as she rode him. Emma hissed as he cupped her ass, kneading and squeezing. “More, fuck.”

His hand came down sharply on her rounded flesh, the sting exactly what she needed. Emma ducked down and kissed him, wet and sloppy, mewling as he continued to spank her. Heat spread over her skin, her blood boiling, her desire burning ever higher. She picked up her pace, slamming down on his cock, Killian rocking up to meet her. “That's it, sweet. Feels so fucking good.”

Emma reached down and flicked her clit, a second climax rolling through her. She cried out, body spasming above him, squeezing him deliciously. “Killian!”

He cut off her shout with a kiss, hanging on by a thread. It was likely parts of the ship could hear them, but it only turned him on. Let everyone know how lucky he was to have this woman want him, need his touch and his cock. He stole one last kiss from her lips, then lifted her off him. Her movements were sluggish, almost drugged, but she followed his lead, landing on her hands and knees. She quivered in anticipation, sighing happily when her Spartan sank back inside her, filling her with his thickness. He was the only lover she would ever have, but she'd seen enough naked men to know that her man was well endowed. Still a little breathless, but she couldn't help but meet him thrust for painfully slow thrust, rocking back onto his cock.

“Gods, I love you,” he breathed, bending down to kiss her shoulder.

Emma moaned softly, her arms giving out a little. Her cheek rested on the wool, now damp with sweat, her movements slowing. “Love you,” she breathed. “Don't stop.”

Killian loosely gripped her hips, reveling in her dripping heat. She was so slick, her previous orgasms easing his passage. “Tell me,” he pleaded. “Tell me how this feels.”

She wasn't sure she could think, let alone form complete sentences, but she could try. “Thick,” she panted, back arching. “You are so thick inside me, stretching and burning. I _burn_ for you, the way you fill me up.”

Killian groaned, taking her just a hair harder. “More.”

“Ugh, it's like...I have no control. Your hands on me, your mouth, your cock.” Her knees slipped a little on the cloth, allowing him to take her even deeper. “Oh gods, just like that. So fucking deep, so good.”

His fingertips dug into her hips, grunting as he sank balls deep over and over. He couldn't see her arousal, but he could feel it, her tight channel getting wetter the longer he fucked her. “Emma, Emma, Emma...” he muttered, bending over her. “So _wet_ , fuck.”

She reached blindly, searching for his hand, guiding it to her clit. “Please. Need to come, need to feel you come inside me!”

One hand rubbed her clit in hard quick circles, the other twisted her nipple. “Come, love,” he growled. “Feels so fucking good when you come on my cock.”

She convulsed a third time, unable to contain her scream of completion as her Spartan rutted into her. She _felt_ him pulse inside her, his seed coating her walls as he grunted her name. He trembled against her, hips jerking hard until he was completely spent. Her strength finally gave out, sending them both to the floor, but she felt so amazing, skin buzzing, desire sated. Killian gathered her in his arms, murmuring nonsense into her skin. “Hmmm.”

He smiled into her shoulder, hands splayed over her belly. “Alright now, my love?”

“Yes, thank you.”

He chuckled. “I did not do much.”

She found his hand, threading their fingers together. “You always know what I need.”

His lips touched her skin. “I did not hurt you?”

She rolled over, nuzzling his chest. “No. It was everything I needed, Spartan.” She leaned up and lightly kissed his lips. “I like that you do not treat me like I am fragile.”

“You are the strongest person I know, darling. I just do not wish to hurt you or our little one.”

Emma smiled. “You could never hurt me. Or her. She's protected by Artemis, remember?”

Killian touched her still flat stomach. “I remember, but...you can not even tell she is in there.”

“I think my queasy stomach would disagree.”

“How do you feel now?”

“Perfect.”

“Emma, be serious.”

“I am. I feel _wonderful_.” Her core ached in just the right way; she felt well used and above all else, _loved_. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“I am your husband, or I will be,” he hedged, kissing her brow tenderly. “I should be thrown into the depths of Tartarus for not looking after my pregnant Amazon.”

She cupped his scruffy cheek. “Of course you will. I want to marry you, Spartan.”

“I do not ever want to diminish who you are, Princess. I love everything about you.”

This was why she felt no reservations about her love for him. Because he did love all of her. The warrior, the princess, the woman. She could be his wife and mother of his children and still be _Emma_. “As I do you, Killian.” Her fingertips skimmed down his arm; his cuts and scrapes were healing nicely. He kept himself covered everywhere but in her arms, but most of the marks were faint red lines and scabs now as the skin knitted back together. She applied the salve every day, knowing he was still sensitive about possible scars. “My brave, brave Spartan.”

Her touch made him shiver, forever awed by her capacity for love and goodness. “I do not always feel brave.”

She sensed the shift in him, the darkness looming. He still had not spoken of his torture, not directly. Since boarding the ship, he had been looking after her, which only served to make her feel guilty. She should not take so much from him, not while he was still healing. Any sleepiness she felt melted away. “None of us do, love. It is not a weakness.”

Tears stung his eyes; he could not describe how it felt to hear those words. “I want...I want to tell you, Emma. I need this out of me.”

She kissed his lips. “It is okay. I am here. I will always be here for you.”

Killian sucked in a breath, hugged her tight to his chest. She felt him shudder, his body tense up. Her fingers moved to the base of his neck, pressing in firm slow circles, hoping a loving relaxing touch would encourage him to speak. After a few tense moments, words began to tumble out, words that did not immediately make sense. However, as he painted the picture, she felt her throat close up. Her poor brave Spartan. Insanely jealous, Regina would not rest until she'd taken everything from Emma.

“Every time she...touched me,” Killian bit out, “I felt... _dirty_ , unclean. The things she wanted to do to me...” He shook hard, choking on a sob. “I am so sorry, Emma.”

“You were bound,” she reminded him. “There was nothing you could do.” Her lips brushed over his heart. “You did not betray our love, Killian. You couldn't.”

“Every time I refused her, she...cut me. Over and over; she got off on it, touching herself, coming with my name on her lips. Emma...” He was silent for a long moment. “Gods, I could not help it. I tried, I truly did, but...”

“Could not help what, love?”

“My body...it...reacted to her. She taunted me, claiming that I wanted her, that all I had to do was give in to my desire. But I _didn't_. I swear to you I did not. I only want you, Emma.”

Emma bit her lip hard, fighting back tears. He sounded so broken, like he'd done something unforgivable. Her heart shattered for him; silently, she cursed that she was related to such a person. _Regina is dead,_ she scolded herself. _She can not hurt him anymore._ “Killian, that is not your fault. She was trying to break you. She would have done anything to destroy you, destroy us. But you are here with me and you are safe.”

“You are not angry?” He was certain she'd be furious.

“Do you recall the day you and the other prisoners bathed in the river?”

“Yes.” All he could see that day was her, her lithe graceful beauty. He'd jerked off in the water, desperate to ease the ache in his loins.

Emma felt her cheeks warm, ashamed of how she and her sisters viewed prisoners then. “One of the reasons we had young ones wash the prisoners was to desensitize them to the sight of a naked man. That men were nothing more than weak flesh to be manipulated and discarded.” Gods, she hated the ways of her people so much. How could they be so cruel? After a long moment, she continued. “They deliberately tease and fondle; becoming aroused would prove a man fit for the ritual and demonstrate his inherent weakness.” She leaned away from him, ashamed. “I hate that this happened to you. But it is _not_ your fault. My people's ways are cruel and inhuman. You did nothing wrong, my Spartan. I am so sorry.”

More tears slid down his cheeks. He could not stand the shame in her voice. “You have nothing to be sorry for, my love. Despite all of this, I could never regret falling in love with you.”

“Really?”

“Emma, I love you because you are an Amazon. You are strong and beautiful and kind. You have changed my life for the better. I want us to have the life we've dreamed of, a home, children. But it feels like I betrayed you; it shames me.”

She pressed her lips to his face; she could taste his salty tears. “No, Killian. You fought for us. You stayed alive. For me and for our daughter. When she is old enough, she will be proud of you, just as I am. If you feel like you need my forgiveness, you have it. Always.” She drew his hand to her belly. “We need you to forgive yourself.”

Could she be right? His guilt weighed on him, Regina's words running over and over in his mind when he was weak. But he _had_ refused the Queen. Again and again and again. In his heart, he never wanted anyone but Emma. His lovely, perfect Emma. She was his other half. Regina was gone, dead by his own hand. And still, Emma did not turn from him. She was always there, freely sharing her heart with him. “I love you so much, Princess.”

“I love you too.” She squeezed his hand. “I can not wait to start our life together, Killian.”

He ducked down to kiss her stomach. “It will start the moment we land, I promise you.” He rolled onto his back, coaxing Emma to lay her head on his chest. She entwined herself around him, both for warmth and simply to be close to him. Even in the short time since they set sail, he'd come so far. He still had nightmares, but he no longer hesitated to accept her comfort. And now he'd let her in, confessing his deepest secret. While her heart hurt at how much he'd suffered, she never felt closer to him than in this moment, not loved him more.

Killian rubbed her back, encouraging her to relax, to get some rest. Her pregnancy would only get more taxing on her small frame, and while he was well aware of her strength, there was no reason to wear her out unnecessarily. With his own emotions still raw from his confession, looking after her was a balm to his soul. Emma and the child she carried were all that mattered to him, his whole world. He would face down Hades himself if it meant she would be happy.

He slept fitfully, hovering on the edges of a dream. Before he could sink into it, he would jerk awake, heart racing. But it did not feel malevolent. It was almost as if the god of dreams was protecting him from the darkness of the recent past. For long minutes after waking, all he could do was think, unwilling to disturb Emma. Each time it got a little easier, his mind more clear. Telling his Princess the stark truth had unlocked something in his mind, the festering wound clean now. Clean, it could heal, scab over until all that remained was a faint scar.

 _I love you,_ he thought, feeling himself slip under the veil of sleep once more.

* * *

“Where is she? Where is the Amazon?!”

A chorus of rough bellows, each more frightening than the last, filtered down to their little cramped space. The lovers woke up at almost the same instant, Emma wincing in pain, a cramp in her leg from where she lay. Pounding feet and more cursing sounded, Killian unleashing a curse of his own. It was impossible to know what time of day it was in the tiny room; it was still mostly dark. So much so that Killian banged his head on a beam trying to move so that he and Emma could both cover themselves.

“What is going on?” Emma demanded, not bothering to find her pins. She simply tied the peplos into a knot over her left shoulder.

More shouting, footfalls getting closer. “I heard them screeching for the Amazon, love. Seems your admirer could not keep his mouth shut.”

“Or he's a spy sent from Apollo.” Artemis had warned them, but not even she could have expected the winds to flee. Could she? They should have been on Porphyris more than two days ago. As long as they were anonymous, they considered themselves safe. No longer.

“Have your dagger, love?”

Killian's grim tone galvanized her. She would take on anyone who threatened her or her family. She said a silent prayer to Artemis for the welfare of her daughter. “Looks like we're getting our wish after all.”

“What's that?”

She found his hand and squeezed. “To fight side by side.”

Killian's heart clenched; such a wish felt selfish now. All he wanted was his family safe. Safe and far away from war and blood and death. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” She kissed him swiftly, then led the way out of their quarters. As they emerged into the main hold, the shouts got louder, feet scurrying hither and yon on the deck. A few of their fellow passengers lingered in the communal hold, quickly scurrying away in fear, the commotion too much for them. Emma drew her dagger from her thigh and held it close to her chest, advancing warily.

“Amazon! Master, she's here!”

A man Emma had only seen in passing a few times came barreling through the gap in the wall. Was he the master of the ship? She could not recall. Tall and broad shouldered, he was not exactly handsome, the cutting chin taking away from the intense light blue eyes. Those eyes were narrowed in suspicion and anger. “You! You threatened my crew!”

“Your crew should have better manners.”

Killian stood at her side, his short sword drawn. “This does not have to get unpleasant.”

“No, Spartan. It does.” The man drew a long sword, running his index finger along the honed edge. He grinned darkly. “This will be fun.”

Emma struggled not to roll her eyes. If she had a cubit for every time a man underestimated her, she certainly would not be traveling on this tiny excuse for a trading vessel. She shared a nod with Killian, then braced herself for the attack. The man wasted no time, ducking around the mast to try and take them from the flank. As one, she and Killian turned, Killian deflecting the sword blow with his blade, giving Emma the chance to slip under the hulking man's armpit and slash deeply with her dagger. A howl of pain told her she'd struck home.

She tucked and rolled, looking about for another weapon. Her dagger was perfect for close quarters; however their would be assassin had a long sword and a long reach. They were temporarily at a disadvantage. Other sailors and passengers seemed to hover on the fringe, some unsure what was happening, others just looking out for themselves. She heard Killian cry out, her head turning automatically. But he seemed fine, holding his own. The hold held both goods and belongings of the passengers and crew; Emma rifled through the closest ones, searching frantically for a sword.

Killian grunted, dodging the blow aimed at his head. The man he fought was huge but unfortunately not clumsy. Still, if he could hold him off long enough, his attacker would eventually tire. The captain bled profusely from his stab wound, but it was not yet adversely affecting him. Killian spun and slashed, catching the man on the left side. The shorter reach of his sword made things more difficult but he was a Spartan. He trained his whole life to take on all sorts of opponents. He was rewarded with a howl of pain but it only seemed to enrage the larger man.

“Who _are_ you?” Killian demanded. “Why not just leave...us...be?” Surely one inebriated crewman was not worth dying for? There was no mistaking the dark look in the other man's eyes, his intent was to kill. Was there more to him than they realized?

“Gaston,” the man bit out, pressing his hand to his hip. The fingers came away with red with blood. “And you'll pay for that, Spartan.”

A flash of silver was all the warning he had, the blow once again coming toward his head. Killian cursed, parrying the blow and landing one of his own. Jab, hack, slash, blows rained thick and heavy, but Killian actually found he was enjoying himself. While he no longer relished fighting, he knew he was good at it. His sense of self had been so battered, he clung to what was familiar. Intricate swordplay, fighting someone larger than himself, who had every intention of killing him and his Amazon, galvanized him.

Emma dared a look at the fight, Killian seemed to be holding his own. She knew he was a great warrior; he'd won the games to become her mate, after all. He's survived countless battles on the fields of Troy. But she hadn't loved him then, so she could not help but feel her heart in her throat as he fought for his life. _Focus_ , she scolded herself. _Find a weapon and get back in the fight._

Her dagger slashed through a rope holding closed a chest and wrenched the lid open. Her eyes flew wide in shock. _A cache of weapons._ Swords and a clutch of daggers. Just who was this captain and his crew? She quickly snatched up a long sword and spun, a ferocious war cry on her lips. In battle, she typically carried a shield on her left arm, but sparring with Killian had honed her skills without it. Her cry caught their would be assassin's attention, his head swiveling at the last second. His sword caught on her hers, sparks flying. A surge of power and excitement gripped her; this was her element.

Killian panted, his breath in short rasping gasps, but he did not pause but a moment. He had a cut on his arm, but the pain was negligible. He'd felt far, far worse. Emma ducked a wild swing from Gaston, spinning around to kick him hard in the stomach. The big man staggered but did not fall, one hand gripping his belly. Killian took the chance to return to Emma's side, guarding her weak side. For the first time, Gaston looked afraid. He backed away, trying to dodge around the thick mast in an attempt to regroup. No doubt he'd expected this to be easy; Emma knew his kind. Arrogant, wrapped in a cloak of invincibility. She made beating such men a sport.

Killian paused for only a moment, catching Emma out of the corner of his eye. Jaw set, shoulders square, sword raised, she was a goddess. His goddess, his Amazon. They shared a nod and advanced, splitting off around the mast to catch Gaston in a pincer movement. Emma reached him first, swinging the heavy sword down across the assassin's barrel chest. The man's beefy hand crashed down on her wrist, desperately trying to disarm her. Her grip weakened for a fraction of a second, but it was enough of a distraction that she missed the knee to her gut. Her breath left her in a rush, one arm automatically flying to her stomach. Killian screamed, fury boiling in his veins. He tossed his sword and ran, tackling Gaston to the mast. Skittering metal sounded to his left, but Killian paid it no mind. One punch caught Gaston in the stomach, then another; the man was strong but Killian was fueled by more than his own strength. This man had tried to take his family away and he would pay. The furious blows doubled Gaston over; Killian brought his elbow down hard on the back of the man's neck. Gaston dropped, moaning in pain, disoriented, confused, one hand gripping his stomach in pain, the other reaching blindly for a weapon, any weapon.

Emma's eyes narrowed, the assassin's sweaty grasping fingers reaching for her discarded dagger. She ran, sword raised high, screaming in fury. The blade bit deep into the man's chest, blood blooming from the wound. Gaston screamed, a hoarse gurgling sound and Emma stabbed him again. And again. She did not stop until she saw dead eyes staring back at her.

Killian saw her fury, the raw power of her rage, and yet he was not frightened. His woman was an Amazon, trained in war. He saw her on the fields of Troy, the ease with which she dispatched her enemies. Gaston was just another enemy. He walked up to her, bloody hands curling around her shoulders. “Emma?”

She turned, bright green eyes locking with his, relief washing through her. “Killian? Are you alright?”

“Yes, love.” He grunted as she hugged him tight, her peplos covered in blood. She lessened her hold long enough to pepper his face with kisses. He brought one hand to the back of her head, cradling it, stilling her long enough to capture her lips in a deep fervent kiss. When they came up for air, he leaned his forehead against hers. “Are you well, my love?” He hands rested on her belly, still fearful for their child, in spite of Artemis' protection.

She covered his hand with hers. “I am fine, Spartan. Trust in Artemis.”

He smiled weakly. “I do, love. I just...could not bear it if we lost her. I love her so much already.”

“I know. I do too.” It was the one certainty in their future, that their daughter would be loved and cherished, as would their other children. “And I love you.”

He crushed her to his chest, saying a quick silent prayer to Athena and Artemis for keeping her safe. “I love you too, Emma. So much.”

She was exhausted and filthy, but everything melted away in Killian's arms. She was dimly aware of other people, men mostly, filtering in, but she clung to her Spartan. Was this how Killian felt taking Regina's life? He'd been so desperate to get into the fight, to help her. He'd seen Regina choking the life from her, his bellow of fury imprinted on her memory. There was nothing they would not do for the other, especially if their lives were in danger. She knew that before, but she felt it now with a keen visceral clarity.

She raised her head, fingers brushing over his beard. “As much as I would love nothing more than to remain in your arms, we must get cleaned up. We must pray to Athena and Artemis, see if they can do something about the winds. I want to go home.”

She was amazing, his Amazon. The tenderness and conviction in her eyes was every bit as deep and true as the rage that felled the captain. Emma was a woman who felt keenly, all the more so for having kept those emotions bottled up for so long. He understood and adored that about her. He could not wait until she was his in every sense, joined in a way that could only be severed by death. Many, many years from now. He kissed her lightly, her mouth still so soft. “Then we shall.”

While they gathered themselves, members of the crew gingerly entered the hold. Most stared at the corpse, trying to process exactly what had occurred. A couple of the more adventurous kicked at Gaston's body, expecting it to move. Blood stained the wood, slippery if one was not careful.

“Throw him over the side,” Killian said to the gathered men. “And find some sand for the floor.” The crew looked frightened, not quite believing their eyes. Their master was dead. They stared dumbly back at him. He sighed; someone had to take control of the ship. “Do it. Now. And get this hold cleaned up.”

“But what happened?” one of them asked. “Do you know who he is? Who _are_ you?”

Killian let go of Emma, stepping right up into the man's face. He was shorter than Killian by a head, skinny as a rail and dirty. “It does not matter. What matters is that your master is dead. If you do not wish to follow him, then you will do as I say. Is that clear?”

Seeming to shrink inward, the man nodded. He barked orders to his fellows, men scrambled to obey. Killian could see some of the other passengers staring at him, a question in their eyes. Who would run the ship now? Did he want that responsibility? Not really, but he would accept it. Before they could speak, he turned his back, looking for Emma. She hovered by the remaining water casks, looking both proud and exhausted. She was bloody and filthy, much like she had the first time he ever saw her. Fighting, even now they always seemed to be _fighting_.

Would they ever be free of this war?

Emma smiled as he returned to her; her Spartan was an imposing man, a natural leader. With no other choice, she ignored the men—at least six were trying to get the body out of the hold—and stripped off her bloodstained peplos. They needed to get cleaned up as quickly as possible. She could feel their eyes on her, but paid it no mind. She was not ashamed of who or what she was. Killian found a few lengths of cloth and tore some for washing. Dipping a small bucket into the cask, he drew enough for Emma to get clean. They did not want to contaminate what little there was left to drink. She stood still as he gently washed her body; he worked quickly but carefully, ever mindful of the men around them. Even covered in blood his Emma was beautiful, but she was _his._

Emma smiled to herself, the irritation in his blue eyes was amusing to her. How did he imagine she felt, when they were forced to parade him through the palace nude? Other Amazons oogling her mate made her both angry and irritated, angry at the injustice of his situation and irritated they got a glimpse of what was hers. Thankfully their mutual possessiveness was welcome; Emma had no desire for any other man. Just Killian.

As the last of the blood sluiced from her body, she stood up on her toes and kissed his lips. “Thank you, love.”

He offered her a length of the borrowed cloth. “It's not much, but it will have to do.”

Emma accepted it, arranging it around her naked body. “You can take it off later, Spartan.”

A low growl caught in his throat. A man was dead, had tried to kill them, but he was helpless to resist the sparkle in his Amazon's eyes. He should not have been surprised; their sparing often led to hours of pleasure, as she begged him to take her over and over again. They were warriors, trained to kill. An act that required passion, passion that needed an outlet. He would happily be her outlet. Before he could act on their mutual need, he needed to be clean.

He offered Emma the stained cloth, tossing aside his own ruined clothing. Emma cleansed his skin with reverent strokes, her lips gently touching the nicks and scrapes he's sustained in the fight. It was a chance for her to admire him, his strong toned physique, muscles sculpted to perfection. Killian saw her gaze darken, the careful way she touched him, and yet even that made him semi hard. If they did not have an audience, he might have bent her over one of the casks and taken her then and there. Logic fought with desire; Emma was not wrong in declaring that it was time to call on their protectors. But he wanted to feel her, around him, under him, riding him, surrounding him.

Emma seemed to sense it, tossing the dirty rag aside and dragging her hand teasingly over his hips. “Soon, my love.” She smiled and pecked his lips. “Dress while I fetch our offering.”

Offering? Killian's brow knitted in confusion, even as he shook out the material to cover himself. His eyes followed her, Emma's light step belying her intent. The weapon that ended Gaston's life lay discarded on the floor; Emma stooped to pick it up. Suddenly, he understood. That was their offering, the weapon she used to save his life. She did not bother to wipe off the blood, simply holding it out in front of her. Men gave her a wide berth, eying her warily as she rejoined Killian. “Ready?”

He slipped his hand into hers and nodded. It was a very short climb up to the main deck, more men stared at them. Killian supposed he should be doing something, taking charge, but as there was still no wind to be had, they were stuck. He was reasonably confident that no one would attack again; these people did not seem foolhardy. He and Emma were a deadly combination. Their fellow passengers were simple merchants and travelers, not warriors.

Emma tugged him toward the stern, near where the idle oars lay. Together they knelt, Emma laying the sword in front of her. The sun was high in the sky, making her golden hair shine. Killian smiled to himself; his Princess would no doubt disagree with him, desiring a long soak in a bath. But she was always beautiful to him, especially now. Despite some lingering dirt and exhaustion, she almost seemed to glow, her eyes shining with love for him and their child. As much as he longed to keep her safe, he could not deny how much he loved her warrior's spirit.

Emma felt no trepidation as she knelt on the rocking deck; she was confident that Athena and Artemis would answer her prayer. They had not let her down yet. “Lady Athena, Huntress,” she said quietly, holding Killian's hand firmly, “we ask once more for your guidance and protection. Our ship is becalmed. Even here we can not find the peace we seek.” Athena seemed to know all, she need not explain. Killian squeezed her hand, offering his unflinching support and love. “We beseech you to send the winds so we can find our new home. The one place we can be safe and raise our daughter.”

Killian took over. “We present you with the weapon that ended our attacker's life. I ask you to reward Emma's tenacity and bravery.” He smiled over at her. “She has once again saved my life, at great risk to herself. She is a warrior in your image, great lady. Let us find our home. Please.”

Together they tossed the bloodied sword over the side. Emma stood by the rail, watching the place where it sank for a long time. Killian wrapped his arms around her, humming as she leaned against him. He adored her strength, but he would do anything to ease her burden. With him, she did not need to be strong all the time, just as he did not for her. It was a revelation to him, something that helped him accept his own trauma and begin the process of healing.

The salty scent of the sea filled her nostrils, her lover's warmth surrounding her. She did not regret killing the captain, but she could not help the part of her that longed for peace. A happy home for her family, a place to grow old with her Spartan. She would fight to defend her own, but she finally understood why her mother yearned to run away with James. There was no better feeling than being held by Killian, sharing a quiet moment. Her entire perspective on life changed since he came into hers. Things she dismissed as frivolous or beneath her were now all she wanted. A home, a family, a lover who understood her wholly and completely. She wanted to watch her children grow, teach them the ways of war _and_ peace so they could live whatever life they chose. She drew Killian's large hands over her belly, a sigh on her lips.

“Are you well, love? Any queasiness?”

She shook her head. “I am well. A bit tired.”

“Battles are exhausting.”

She turned, resting her head on his chest. “Do you think we will ever be at peace?”

He rubbed her lower back tenderly. “I do. Or as peaceful as we wish our lives to be.” When she looked up at him curiously, he smiled faintly. “I would be quite put out if we stopped sparring. I do so love watching you fight, Princess.”

“Porphyris is a haven for Amazons and their mates,” she reminded him. “I have a feeling you will have your wish, Spartan.”

He brushed a lock of her hair back. “My only wish is to make you happy, Emma.”

“I have the same wish. For you to be happy.”

He grinned. “Then it seems we must stay together, to ensure both of our wishes come true.” He dipped his head to kiss her, a tender brush of her lips. Emma chased him, his nearness and heat calling to her. She curled her hand around his neck, tugging him back so she could kiss him harder, her passion rising again. “Emma...”

“Kiss me, Spartan.”

Far be it for him to deny his princess anything she desired. He backed her against the rail, his body hard on hers, his tongue slipping past her lips. Emma's moan went straight to his cock, hardening him in an instant. Her fingers knotted in his hair, holding him close, back arching. Her core pulsed with need, an ache to be filled, to forget all the horror they experienced and replace it with love and passion. She gave no thought to anyone around them, her focus solely on her Spartan.

Killian knew they needed to find some privacy but then he would need to stop touching her. He could not stop kissing her, her soft pliant lips addicting and sweet. “Love you. Love you so much,” he muttered between kisses.

“Shh.” She knew he worried about her well being, the health of their child, but she needed him with a desire that bordered on madness. She felt fine, the only imperfection was the ache in her core. She was so caught up in their kiss that she did not notice the cool air moving over her skin, tossing her hair. Killian did, hearing the cloth that covered them snapping and whipping.

“Emma?” He broke their kiss, a note of awe in his voice. “Is that...?”

Her smile lit up her face; his locks blew in the breeze. A _real_ breeze out of the north. They both turned to look, Emma's hair beginning to swirl around her head. “Athena. She's answering our prayer. It has to be.”

They were not the only ones to notice the wind; members of the ship's crew called for their fellows, shouts of glee at the coming of the winds. Killian picked Emma up and spun her around; they could finally go home. Belatedly, he realized that he had taken charge of the ship; he set Emma down long enough to order them to get underway. Fortunately, the crew knew exactly what to do and after confirming their heading, he tugged his Amazon toward the captain's quarters. No one stopped them.

The captain's berth was only marginally larger than theirs, but it was private. They wanted nothing more than to be left alone. The moment they were alone, Killian's mouth was on hers, much to her delight. “Yes,” she breathed.

“Does the Princess need to be fucked?” he growled in her ear. His fingers tugged hard on the knot holding her makeshift chiton together, eager to feel her skin. It came apart easily, baring her gorgeous body.

“Yes,” she panted, grabbing his wrists and guiding his hands. Together they cupped her breasts, the nipples hardening quickly. “Need you inside me.”

“Again? So insatiable, my love.”

She ran her hands over his biceps, his shoulders. The muscles rippled and flexed under her touch; Killian groaned as her blunt nails scratched over his skin. “Please,” she hissed, biting her lip. He rolled her nipples between his fingers, a pulse of lust gripping her. “I need you.”

One hand slipped between her thighs, she was already soaked for him. One hard tug sent his clothing to the floor, leaving them gloriously nude and wanting. Killian dragged her down with him, flopping flat on his back and positioning her over his face. Emma gripped the beam above her, needing some kind of anchor as he licked and nibbled at her aching flesh. His beard rubbed and burned her thighs, but it only intensified her pleasure. His warm tongue danced over her core, lapping at her dripping hole.

“Oh yes,” she panted, rolling her hips. “Fuck, more!”

Killian grinned under her, fingers parting her swollen lower lips. She tasted incredible, hot and sweet, and he could not get enough of her. He played with her clit, the nub hard and pulsing as he flicked it. “So fucking responsive,” he growled, dipping two fingers into her heat. He licked and sucked her clit, fingers pumping, eager to bring her off. Her thighs shook hard around his head, her hips rocking in short hard bursts. “Come for me.”

Her hand slapped hard against the wood as she fell, a curse on her lips. Her core clamped down hard on his fingers, her body shuddering. It was what she prayed was the first of many, her desire nowhere near sated. “Fuck,” she panted, “again, again!”

Killian growled, obeying her automatically. He held her thighs, dragging her core down to his hungry mouth. If she wanted more, he would give it to her. He tongued her until she fell twice more, her flesh so sensitive. His cock ached, longing to be buried in her hot tight sheath. “Emma, love...please,” he pleaded, kissing her thigh. She was sagging above him, boneless from three intense orgasms, but he needed her so much.

Emma found the strength to slither down his body, mewling as her swollen flesh came into contact with his hard thick cock. Feeling his arousal fueled her own, yearning to take him into her body. “Fuck me,” she whispered, finding his mouth, tasting herself as they kissed. “Don't hold back, Spartan. Claim me.”

Killian's hands tightened on her ass, a low moan on his lips. He was loathe to hurt her, but he knew he was far beyond sanity. His need was a mindless beast, curled low in his belly, desperate to be free. He spanked her hard twice, then rolled them on their sides, her back to his chest. Lifting one of her legs, they found the right angle to allow him to penetrate her. She was so wet and slick that she took him easily, clawing at the pallet as he filled her. “Fuck, _fuck_ ,” she hissed.

He fought his instincts, stilling his hips. “Too much?”

“No, _no._ Fuck, so big inside me,” she breathed. “Don't stop, so good.”

That was all he needed to know. One hand pawed her breast, flicking the nipple in time with his hard deep thrusts. Emma arched and cried out, one hand stretched above her head, hips moving with his, just hanging on as her lover rode her so deliciously. Killian turned her head, lips crashing down on hers in a sloppy heated kiss. He tried to touch every part of her at once, hoping to bring her off one final time. Nothing felt as amazing as his Amazon, his cock buried deep inside her, her walls gripping him, her body just as hungry for completion.

They rolled so Emma was on top, her legs spread wide as Killian drove into her again and again and again. She grabbed his hand, touching his fingers to her clit. He rubbed her hard and fast, his other hand on her breast. Her climax rippled through her, white hot pleasure spiking her blood, making her skin tingle and spark. It took her a moment to realize the inhuman shrieks came from her, her body convulsing in bliss.

Killian bit his lip, fucking her through it, his own orgasm gathering at the base of his spine. He came _hard_ , stars popping behind his closed lids, pumping her full of his seed. He grunted, shuddering as the pleasure rocked him to the core. This was where he was supposed to be, loving his woman until they collapsed with exhaustion.

They must have fallen asleep, because Killian's next memory was Emma's small form tucked against his chest, sleeping peacefully. She looked even younger like this, giving him a glimpse of the girl she'd been before they met. He could not help but fall a little bit more in love with her, her sweetness and kindness shining through. She was a walking contradiction, fearsome Amazon and tender soul, dangerous, yet so compassionate and loving. And he was the one that she chose to share her life with, the one she gave up the only home she'd ever know for. He meant what he said: his only wish was to see her happy and fulfilled. As a woman, as a wife, as a mother, as a warrior.

He would spend the rest of his life making that a reality.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your patience! Last chapter before the epilogue!

Strong hands kneaded his shoulders and neck; Killian struggled to hold back a groan. He'd been awake for almost two days straight, captaining the ship. It was hard work, requiring constant vigilance, a strong hand and skills he had not needed for many years. The night he'd shown Emma the stars was just the beginning; he had to rely on his instincts to find the right heading to get them where they were supposed to go. If Poseidon was kind, they should be discovering Porphyris very soon.

When he was not wrangling the crew, he looked after Emma. Her nausea lessened, but was not gone; she rarely felt well enough to leave their new quarters. He visited her whenever he could, ever concerned for her well being and that of their child.

“This is not necessary, love,” he said, even as she worked out a knot at the base of his neck. “I am fine.”

“Hush,” Emma chided, her lips brushing his skin. “Let me take care of you, Spartan.”

“You're unwell,” he protested.

“We are fine,” she countered. “I miss you.”

“Emma...”

“You need rest, Killian. The ship will keep for a few hours.”

He could feel her behind him, warm and soft; he missed her too. Being the captain had its advantages, but nothing compared to his Amazon's loving embrace. “We should be there soon. Then we can get off this infernal ship.”

Her lips brushed in neck. “It is not all bad.”

“It's not?”

She stopped massaging, her warm hands skimming over his back and sliding under his arms. He could feel her pressed against his back, all warm skin and soft curves, suddenly he ached for her. “We do have these quarters all to ourselves.”

“You are too tempting, my love.”

“So give into temptation, Spartan.” She nibbled on his earlobe, biting down on the soft skin, a pulse of lust shooting through him.

“Emma...”

“I was watching you. Earlier. Giving orders, hoisting the lines.” Gods, she was killing him with that sultry tone. She ran her hands along his arms, her naked breasts flush to his back. “It made me _want_ , Killian.” She kissed his throat. “Need.” Warm lips grazed his cheek. “You.”

His exhaustion melted away. Abruptly, Killian spun, grabbing her wrists and pinning her to the narrow bunk, arms high above her head. His loose chiton fell between them, a barrier that would soon be gone. For now, he could use it to tease her, grinding his hardening cock against her damp cleft. “Just what do you need, Princess?”

She arched under him, chasing his mouth with hers. He remained tantalizingly out of reach, frustrating her. But she started this, she had every intention of seeing it through. She hadn't been lying; watching her Spartan in command of their little trading vessel stirred her blood, made her want him. She'd been so tired lately; she wanted to take advantage while she could.

“You,” she breathed. “Just you.”

“And what do you want me to do to you, love?” He ducked his head, giving her pert breast a long lick. She moaned, lip caught between her teeth. “Mark this lovely skin?” He sucked a nipple between his lips, relishing her loud groan. It excited him, knowing the others would hear. Possessiveness seized his heart, Emma belonged to him and him alone. “Spank you? Tie you to this bunk and feast on your sweetness? Tell me, my love.”

“Anything,” she replied, her body buzzing. He had her pinned on her back, looming above her, and she was burning up. It was such a heady thing to finally have a man who could match her, that never made her feel like she was lesser, even like this. Killian worshiped her.

He let her go long enough to rip a length of cloth from his chiton. They would make landfall soon enough; they could get new clothes in their new home. Start fresh, begin a new life. He took the cloth and tied it around her wrists. “Be a good girl now, Princess. Can you obey?”

His blue gaze set her skin on fire. One day soon she'd return this favor, but for right now, she was his very willing woman. “Yes, Captain.”

He smirked, fingers tracing her lips. He did not scold her when she opened her mouth and took one in, sucking on it firmly. He bit back a groan, his cock throbbing with need. His free hand ripped the cloth that still lay between them away, as he rolled back on his haunches. Emma looked at him with heavy lidded eyes, patiently waiting for his command. Gods, he loved her. “Get on yours knees, lass. And suck.”

Her training gave her great balance and dexterity, but she still swayed as she maneuvered onto her knees. Her bound wrists made her clumsy; she unceremoniously dropped to her elbows, lips hovering over his erect cock. She gave him a long lick, right over the ridge, the one that could stroke her perfectly. One of his hands dived into her hair, pulling back the sunshine kissed strands so he could see her properly. The other brought the tip of his cock to her lips; Emma opened obediently. She didn't feel degraded by this at all; she wanted to please him. He spent so many hours just worshiping her body, making her come until she begged him to stop; it was not a trial to return the kindness.

Killian struggled to stay still as her hot wet mouth took him in; his baser instincts screamed at him to fuck her mouth until she choked. She was a siren, his siren, just as beautiful bound and sucking his cock as she was riding him with abandon, utterly free. “Gods, just like that, love. So good.”

She couldn't use her hands, her arms were needed to maintain her precarious balance. She laved his length with her tongue, swirling around the belled head, lapping at the tart beads of precum. He pulled even more hair away from her face; she found his eyes, startled to see him looking down at her with a mixture of awe and lust. “Don't stop,” he pleaded, rocking a little. “Fuck.”

She released him with a soft pop. “Need you.” She was soaked, core aching to be full, wanting him to use her body in whatever way he saw fit.

“Soon,” he promised. “Just a little more of that sweet mouth, Princess. Please.”

The catch in his voice made her melt. He needed her every bit as much as she needed him. She didn't hesitate, taking him back inside, hollowing out her cheeks and sucking hard. She worked him quickly, up and down, using her arms for leverage, her own need rising to a fever pitch. She could feel it coating her thighs, warm and wet, her body hungry for this man and everything he could make her feel. She didn't stop until he was trembling, literally shaking under her, his hold on her hair just the right side of painful.

“Fucking hell,” he panted, dragging her up by the wrists and kissing her senseless. She made him insane, in the very best way. He was mad for her, for everything they were to each other. Her hands lay trapped between them, her nails digging into his skin in an effort get as close to him as possible. His grabbed her ass, squeezing roughly, giving her a good smack on the pert cheeks. She moaned into his mouth, a sound that went directly to his twitching cock.

“Hurry,” she pleaded, wantonly rubbing herself against him. “Fuck me!”

He couldn't resist her when she begged so sweetly. Killian maneuvered her onto her belly, cockeyed in the bunk, straddling her right leg. He knelt between her thighs, one foot on the floor of the rocking ship, curling her left leg around his hip. Emma fisted the rough wool, back arching as he entered her from behind. “Yes, yes!”

Killian grunted, his fingers digging to her softness. She was so tight like this, gripping his cock like she wanted to keep it locked within her always. It was difficult for him to think, to focus, to not just spill himself like some blushing virgin. He settled for measured shallow thrusts, tormenting them both. “Fuck, love.”

“Gods, just like that,” she sighed, easing into his rhythm. Now that she was full, she could just bask in the sensations, the thick drag of his cock along her walls, his strong hands on her body. She did not attempt to keep quiet; she was not a quiet woman and Killian liked it that way. She cupped her own breast, tweaking the nipple, moaning louder.

Killian cursed, turned on by her erotic display. His Amazon was not shy about her body, well versed in what brought her pleasure. He was jealous of all those years he did not know her, all that time they missed. She was a virgin when he came to her bed, not that he would have wanted her any less if she was not. However, being the only man she would ever know was something he secretly cherished. His Emma was an exquisite creature, beautiful in the throes of her passion.

Emma leaned more heavily on her right side, desperate to take her lover as deep as she could. “Please,” she begged. “Make me come!”

He smacked her ass hard then reached over her hip, quickly finding her clit. She keened loudly, bucking against him as he rubbed her. He took her harder, her slickness easing his passage, sinking in to the hilt. Emma trembled hard, her whole body shaking as she climaxed. She got no rest, Killian flipping her over and ducking between her legs. She whined in protest—her lover had not come, his cock gone from her fluttering heat—unprepared for his mouth on her swollen flesh. She yelped, surprised, but Killian knew her body too well. He traced her throbbing clit with his tongue; she shuddered. _“Fuck!”_

“I never said we were done, love,” he whispered darkly into her skin. His balls ached from his aborted climax, but her quivering form was too much for him to resist. He pushed her legs back, exposing her wet hole. With a wicked smirk, he slapped it with the flat of his palm, eyes locked on her face.

Emma screamed, but not from pain. The sting was fleeting, bone deep pleasure dragging her under. A lustful haze fell over her, almost like she was watching the proceedings from afar. Killian smacked her sex until she was dripping on the floor, her hips bucking upward wildly to meet him, eager for more.

Killian drew his hand away, pressing a tender kiss to her reddened flesh. He was in awe of her, of the things she allowed him to do to her. “Love you so much, Princess. My Princess.”

“Yours! Fuck, yours!” She hardly knew what she was saying, her need driving her. The sweet kiss turned into more, his tongue licking her, plunging inside her. She was so aroused that she climaxed again, screaming herself hoarse. When she came back to herself, she lay there panting, her head lolling on the pallet. “Killian?” she croaked.

“Apologies, sweet. I could not help myself.” He cupped her cheek. “You are so beautiful, Emma.”

Weakly, she reached for his hand, bringing it to her lips. “Again.”

“Love...”

Emma pushed herself up; she was an Amazon, stronger than most and her Spartan had not sated her yet. She got up on her knees and dragged him in by the neck, fusing her lips to his. “I said again, Spartan,” she murmured, her hands curling around his thick erection. “And this time, you will come inside me.”

He rocked into her grip, needing that glorious friction. “Anything, my love. Fuck.”

It was her turn to shove him down the pallet, smiling back at his sexy grin as she straddled his hips. She was so sensitive and swollen from his earlier ministrations, but she could not stop the way she wanted him. Her hands were still bound, so he had to help her sink down on him; Emma hissed as his cock came into contact with her abused flesh, but it was a good pain. Any lingering discomfort quickly melted into pleasure, his cock hitting her in all the right places. “Gods yes,” she breathed.

He covered her hands with his, holding her in place as she bounced on his shaft. “Such a greedy girl,” he murmured. “So hungry for my cock.”

She squeezed her inner muscles, drawing loud moans from them both. “Feels so good,” she panted, rolling her hips. “So deep inside me.”

He yanked on her wrists, bringing her down so she was flush to his chest. Emma forced her arms above her head, lips desperately seeking his. They clashed in a sloppy wet kiss, tongues battling for dominance even as Killian planted his feet and started fucking her in earnest. Hard slaps of skin echoed in the cabin, his hands holding her possessively, Emma loving every single moment. They came together, Killian pumping her full of his seed as she milked him dry, pleasure singing in their veins. Emma could hold on no longer, sinking into sweet oblivion, finally sated by her extraordinary lover.

Killian felt her sag and relax, her breathing even, eyes closed. He was not surprised she passed out; he'd used her harder than he initially intended. However, Emma was a woman who knew what she wanted and he was loathe to deny her anything. His own exhaustion began to creep up on him, the lack of sleep evident now. Emma's head was pillowed on his chest; he did not have the heart to move her. So they remained that way, his Amazon sprawled across his chest, sleeping peacefully.

They'd earned some rest.

* * *

“Captain! Captain! Land ahead!”

Emma turned her gaze from the seemingly never ending ocean, searching for her Spartan. He took the responsibilities of Captain seriously, not that it surprised her. His steadfastness was one of the things she adored about him. He never gave up, her Killian. Even at his lowest point, he fought back, clawing his way back to her. He was almost fully himself again, though Emma knew the affects of his torture would linger. However, since confessing all, he was back with her, wholly and completely. If it were possible, their love felt even deeper than before, their harrowing experiences bringing them even closer.

They'd had no more trouble from the crew or passengers; Emma was convinced they were afraid of suffering Gaston's fate. She was so _tired_ of fighting, so tired of the endless struggle. All she wanted was a place to call their own, a place were they could raise their children and grow old together. She was not quite sure what they would do aside from that; they were both warriors, not farmers or scholars. She had never been to a place like Porphyris, where everyone was equal.

Impatiently, she brushed some of her windswept hair out of her face, searching for the sign of land like everyone else. Killian was with the man who called out, gesturing emphatically. The wind stole his words, but he looked back at her and smiled her favorite heart stopping grin. Beaming back at him, she hurried forward. “What is it? Is it Porphyris?”

Killian slipped arm around her waist, pulling her into a hug. “I believe so. We won't know for sure until we make landfall. Isn't it beautiful?”

She stood up on her toes to see better, but the island was little more than a brown bump on the surface of the ocean. Still, it was what the island represented that mattered. A new home, a new life, a new adventure for she and her Spartan. “Yes, Killian. It is beautiful.”

Things happened quickly after that, Killian enlisting the help of the oarsmen to get them there faster. Emma hurried back to their cabin to gather their few belongings, shedding her tiredness like a second skin. They would have time to rest on Porphyris. She said a quick prayer to both Athena and Artemis for helping them get this far. “Thank you, my ladies,” she said, hand resting lightly on her belly. “Thank you for keeping us safe.”

When their things were packed, she climbed back onto the main deck. The island was much closer now, lush and green, although as they approached, she could see some rocky outcroppings. She was fascinated by everything, so desperately curious about this new life they were about to begin. Once again, Killian was at the helm, shouting instructions, guiding them toward the island. She felt a little queasy, from nerves or from her condition it was impossible to tell. She hoped her condition would improve when they landed; she did not want to spend the next few months with a rebelling stomach.

Killian brushed his hair out of his eyes, excitement driving him. It _was_ Porphyris, he was sure of it. He did not understand how or why, but he _knew_. This was their new home, the place where the past could not touch them. Athena promised they'd be safe here, they could finally find the peace they wanted so badly.

All their lives had been consumed with fighting; they were _tired_. He was; he knew his beloved Emma was as well. They would fight for what they believed, for the lives of their family, but no more. There was no one that could order them to fight. They were finally _free._

As they approached the northside of the island, he could not see any kind of port or dock, so he ordered the crew to tack around. He was learning on the job, having had one the barest of experience on the voyage _to_ Troy. Sparta had a navy, but not a large one and he was a soldier. However, Killian enjoyed the water, enjoyed the rocking of the ship under him. Perhaps it could play a roll in their future? Find a small vessel for themselves? The road before them was utterly blank, they could be whatever they wanted, even a simple fisherman and his wife.

Wife. That was what he wanted above all else. Killian wished to marry the woman he loved and raise their family, true equals in every way. He was hers and she was his and that was all that mattered.

It took some time but one of the crew finally caught sight of a rudimentary port on the leeward side of the island. Killian could just make out a few people on the beach, a couple of small boats. Some low earthen dwellings in the Greek style lay back from the water's edge. He hurried to the oarsmen and pointed, giving them the instructions to get them as close to the beach as possible.

“Is everything okay?” Emma asked, catching him by the hand.

“It seems Athena was not exaggerating the secrecy of this place. There is no formal dock, love.”

“So what does that mean?”

Killian scratched behind his ear. “We may get a little wet, Princess. Unless you would rather bypass our sanctuary?”

She curled her hand into his chiton, her fingers playing over his heart. “I am always ready for an adventure with you, Spartan.”

He grinned; she made him so happy, he could hardly think straight. She just overwhelmed him. “Very soon, love.” He brushed his lips over hers. “Will you be alright for a few more moments?”

She touched her belly. “Yes. Just do not leave without me.”

“Never.” It took a bit longer than he expected but he managed to get them as close as he dared. He strapped on his borrowed sword; Emma had another from the stash they found on board as well as her dagger. They did not expect trouble, however with an island filled with Amazons and their families, one could not be too careful. He wondered if there was anyone who knew Emma, or her mother years ago. Emma had known nothing of the island prior to their flight, but that did not mean that no one from Themiscyra had escaped. He knew from bitter experience that men close to you could be there one day and gone the next, without any rhyme or reason to it.

“What happens to us?” a man asked.

Killian turned. “Pardon?”

“What happens to us?” the man repeated. He was one of the crew, a short yet strong man, skin brown from long days at sea. “You kill our captain, take over and now you're leaving?”

“This was always our destination,” Killian said calmly, his hands loose at his sides, but ready to reach for his sword. “And we were merely defending ourselves. Once we are gone, you may go on your way. We have no quarrel with anyone here.”

“But who will sail the ship?” It was another voice, feminine by the sound ot it. The other passengers had mostly steered clear of them, not that they minded. The woman came forward, her husband on her arm. “None of us know how!”

“There is an entire crew here that does,” Killian said patiently. At least he was trying to be patient. With their new home so close, he really did not want to deal with these people and their petty concerns. Still, he'd taken on this responsibility, he would see it through to the end. “Elect one of them to be the captain and I am sure he will see you all on your way.”

“Elect? What kind of nonsense is that?”

Killian scowled. “Fine. You there,” he called waving to the man at the wheel. He'd been the second in command prior to the Captain's demise. “Can you sail this ship? Finish the journey?”

“Aye!”

“There you have it. You are now free to be on your way.” _May we never meet again,_ he thought crossly as he went to find Emma. She wasn't far away, waiting the tense moment with a look of pride on her face. “Is something amiss, darling?”

She slipped her hand into his. “I think I like you as the Captain,” she said, her lips quirking up. “Is he coming with us?”

“If that is your wish, Princess.” He fought the urge to kiss her senseless; they could not delay any longer. The sun was moving toward the west, they could not lose the light. He hoisted the bag of belongings onto his shoulder and led her to the rail. Before he could say otherwise, she let go of his hand and hoisted up her chiton so she could jump over the side. For a few tense heartbeats she remained submerged, but rose quickly, treading water and waiting for him, hair plastered to her head. Killian did not waste time, tossing her their belongings and jumping, smoothly slicing through the water. The cool sea water gave him a momentary shock, a knife in his lungs, but he fought it, coming up for air. He reached for the strap in Emma's hand, slinging it over his head before swimming for shore.

Emma was a good swimmer thanks to her secret place back in Themiscyra, but she'd never really had to swim this far at once before. Killian was ahead of her, pausing every so often, treading water until she caught up. Aside from the chill, it was actually quite fun; her queasiness became a distant memory now that she was one with the water. The worst part was their soaked clothing, the wool heavy on their bodies, weighing them down with every stroke. She fought through it, having come to far too be deterred by _water._

Sooner than she expected, Emma felt wet sand under her feet. The waves splashed against the rocky sandy shore; Killian hurried over to help her up. They were both soaked to the skin but they were free.

Unfortunately, they also were not alone.

* * *

Emma kept her hand firmly in Killian's, refusing to allow him to be taken from her. The inhabitants of the little beachfront had spread the alarm, fearing the island was under some kind of attack. There was no one in the little group that believed their story about fleeing Themiscyra or that Emma was the princess. She did not recognize anyone, not that she expected to. Athena made it clear that not many chose this path; indeed, how could they when the island itself was such a secret? Emma had been stunned to find out such a place even existed, now she hoped they could find a home here.

Killian glanced at his Amazon through the corner of his eye, outwardly she gave no sign of tension. At least not any obvious ones. He knew her too well, the way her green eyes darted around, subtly searching for signs of danger, the way she held her head. Emma did not believe herself better than anyone else, her royalty something she could not control. But he could see it. There was a presence in her, an innate intangible something that drew people in, made them want to follow her. It was one of the things he loved about her, not shying away from everything that she was. He gave her a gentle squeeze and she offered him a small quirk of her lips.

As long as they stayed together, they could overcome anything.

They were guarded by a half dozen women, a couple of them Emma's age, some younger. How long had people been fleeing to this place? Were there multiple generations of exiled Amazons on the island? Emma had so many questions, but this was not the time to ask them. The path was dirt, etched out of the grass by feet and time. All of the guards were armed with spears; they'd taken nearly all of the couple's weapons, as a sign of good faith. Emma still had he dagger strapped to her thigh should the need arise.

She could not blame their hosts for being wary though. A strange ship turns up on their shore and two people just swim for it? These people would not be Amazons if they did not question the new arrivals.

They saw more people as they moved inland, men and women working side by side, tending crops mostly, but there were a few huts. These seemed to be homes, a mother with a child on her hip while she called for her son, playing at the edge of the little home's clearing. Her heart clenched a little, one hand instinctively going to her belly. One day soon, that would be her. A mother.

Killian saw the look on her face, the tenderness with just a hint of worry. He let go of her hand and slipped his arm around her waist. “Everything is going to be alright, love,” he whispered, taking his eyes off their guard long enough to kiss her cheek. “I promise.”

She looked into a brilliant blue eyes, brimming with love and hope and confidence. She felt safe when he looked at her like that, like she could do anything, be anything she wanted. Emma desperately wanted this life, a home, their children, her Spartan to grow old with. Her past dreams of glory were nothing compared to this simple peaceful life she craved. Killian had promised her many things since he came into her life; he never failed her. She would do her best not to fail him.

“Wait here.”

It was a bit of a shock when they stopped, the lead guard—a tall woman with dark brown hair and eyes—stepping into one of the dwellings. This one was larger than the previous ones they'd passed, built of clay and tiles. A proper Greek house, albeit on a smaller scale than Athena's borrowed home. Emma caught a couple of the guards staring at them, more specifically at Killian, and she held him a little tighter. She could not help her possessive instincts; he was her mate, her other half, father of her child. She knew all too well how attractive he was, but he was hers.

Killian kept his smile to himself, instead burying his nose in Emma's golden tresses. They'd dried out some in the march from the shore; he hoped they could have a proper bath as soon as this nonsense was sorted out. He was certain it would be, it had to be. Athena would not have sent them here if it was not safe for them; their daughter was under the goddess' protection, after all.

“You may enter.”

Emma shared a look with her Spartan and stepped inside the house, Killian right on her heels. She half expected it to be as plain at the other dwellings but there was armor and weapons displayed on the walls, a few pieces of beautiful pottery. Someone important lived here.

They moved toward the sound of voices, hoping to find their host. Or hosts, as it turned out. A man and a woman sat in the atrium, sunlight deepening the woman's copper curls. Her companion was dark haired like Killian, though not as handsome in Emma's opinion. Perhaps a bit shorter as well. Still, not unpleasing, if she weren't already so in love with her Spartan. The couple's heads were bent together, the man looking up as they entered the room.

“Our guests are here, wife.”

The woman stood; she was taller than Emma expected. She definitely had the look of an Amazon, chiton trimmed short, dyed blue to match her eyes. She almost looked familiar, but Emma was certain she had never met this woman before. “Who are you and why have you come to our island?”

Killian gave her an encouraging nod. “I am Emma, Princess of the Amazons,” Emma said clearly. The important thing was to show no fear. “This is my mate, Killian. We fled from Themiscyra, under Athena's protection. For us and our unborn child.”

If their hosts were shocked by this pronouncement, they gave no sign. “Why should we believe you? How do we know you are not spies sent from Regina?”

“You knew Regina?” Emma hadn't expected that.

“Knew?”

Killian stepped forward, pulling aside one strap of his chiton. “Regina is dead, by my hand. After she did this to me and tried to kill Emma, her own flesh and blood.”

The couple looked at each other, a silent conversation passing between them. “If Regina is dead, why are you here? If you truly are the Princess, why not stay?”

Emma's hand clenched into a fist, surprised at her own anger. She could still hear the chants of her sisters as they bayed for her blood and that of her Spartan. “You did not listen to them, hear them demanding my death and the death of those dearest to me,” she said, her voice deathly calm. “All for the crime of falling in love.”

Killian covered her clenched hands with his, hoping to soothe her. He hated that she'd been hurt like that, betrayed by people she considered her sisters. Her own people turned their backs on her, cast her out like trash. “I am so sorry, my love.”

Her eyes glistened with unshed tears; she had not realized how much that still hurt. They were so concerned with getting here, finding the place where they could be safe, that she pushed those feelings down, burying them deep. “It is not your fault, my Spartan. It was never your fault. The gods had other plans for us.” She brought his hands to her stomach. “And our child.”

Killian rubbed his thumbs over her belly, still is awe of the life they created together. He could not wait to meet their little princess. “She will be as fierce and beautiful as her mother,” he murmured, giving her a small smile. “I have no doubt of that.” He ran his hands up her bare arms, her shoulders and neck to cradle her face, placing a gentle kiss to her forehead. As he drew her into his arms, he turned to their hosts. “Do you still doubt us?”

The pair looked at each other, another silent conversation. “We should take them to her,” the dark haired man said softly. “She will want to meet the Princess.”

“You believe them, Jason?”

“I do. And if I know you at all, you do as well.”

“Mother will be able to confirm their story at any rate.” The woman nodded to Emma and Killian. “Come, we will take you to my mother.”

They shared a look, both wondering just who this woman was. Some elder? A wise woman? There was so much about this place that they did not know; they were placing their fate in this woman's hands. Only their faith in their godly patrons eased Killian's mind. They followed their hosts out of the house and back onto the path, heading deeper into the green heart of the island. The man called Jason slowed until he was level with them.

“You must forgive Phoebe, she takes our security very seriously,” he explained. “We have not had anyone arrive from the outside for many years.”

“We had no idea such a place even existed,” Emma replied, still holding Killian's hand. She drew strength from his nearness. “How long have you been here?” He looked to be just a few years older than they.

“I was born here,” Jason said, sounding surprised. “As was Phoebe. Like nearly everyone here, my mother was an Amazon. My father is Ionian.” He narrowed his gaze. “How did you discover our island?”

Killian spoke up. “Athena. She told me about it in a dream.”

Jason's brows shot up. “The _goddess_ Athena?”

“The very same. She is the patron goddess of Sparta; she answered our prayers. We would not have made it if not for her protection and guidance.”

“That is quite a story,” Jason hedged. “I can not imagine being in the presence of a goddess.”

“Do you have a shrine for her on this island? We must pay our respects as soon as possible.”

“Artemis as well,” Emma added.

Killian smiled and squeezed her hand. “Indeed. She will be pleased to know we arrived safely.”

“You speak as if you know them.”

Emma shook her head. “We would never be so presumptuous, but we are honored by their concern for our welfare. We've already dedicated our daughter to Athena.”

If Jason thought that was odd, he said nothing. He explained where the shrines were; Porphyris was home to many disparate peoples, each had their own images and traditions regarding the gods. Emma hoped this interrogation would be over soon so they could pay their respects. They owed the goddesses far more than they could ever repay.

The forest gave way to a clearing; Emma started at the impressive structure before them. If she didn't know better, she would have thought she was back in Themiscyra. The building seemed to be modeled after the palace she'd grown up in. Why would such a structure be here? Was it an homage to what had been left behind? The courtyard of the building was filled with young men and women training side by side in a traditional phalanx formation. Their shouts and grunts filled the air; she noticed Phoebe nod at the lead trainer as they passed.

“Who is that?”

“That is Daphne, Phoebe's sister. We are at peace, but we are always prepared for war.”

Emma wished to ask more questions, but they hurried past the trainees and into the palace. Phoebe slowed, pausing to speak quietly to a guard. “She will receive us now.”

Given where they were, Emma expected them to head into some sort of throne room, but they did not. Instead, Phoebe led them into a simply furnished sitting room, then knelt respectfully. Jason followed suit. It was darker than Emma or Killian expected; neither could discern anyone else in the room. They looked at each other, wondering what would happen next.

“Just a moment, child,” a gravelly woman's voice said in the dimness. “This cloth will not weave itself.”

“We have visitors, Mother,” Phoebe said, head still bowed. “From the outside.”

“Oh?” The old woman sighed. “Well, I suppose this can wait.” Wood scraped on stone as she slowly stood. She grabbed a wooden cane and shuffled closer to the lone beam of light in the dark space. “Now who have you brought me?” Emma watched as the woman narrowed her eyes, which quickly widened in shock. “You. You have her eyes.”

Emma's brows pinched together, not quite sure what the old woman could even mean. “Apologies, my lady. I am not sure what you mean.”

The old woman seemed to straighten a bit, her gait stronger as she closed the gap between them. “It is I who should be apologizing, Highness. I just never expected Snow's daughter to find our humble home.”

“You knew my mother?”

The smile lit up the old lady's face. “Indeed. We were great friends in our youth, trained together.”

“So she is the Princess?” Phoebe asked, still a bit incredulous. She stood nearby with Jason, looking both wary and curious.

“You doubted her? Always so suspicious, my child.”

“Mother, I...”

“You guard our people well, Phoebe. I am sure the Princess understands.”

“Of course. We are refugees here, my lady,” Emma said quickly. “Athena told us we would be safe here on your island.”

“We are honored by the goddess' faith in us. Please, sit. I imagine we have much to discuss.”

Jason and Phoebe found some stools and lit a few torches, lighting up the dim room. It was as sparsely furnished as Emma first suspected, sparse but comfortable. It seemed to be the old woman's private chamber. As they told her their story, they found out her name was Leda. She'd grown up with Snow, a few years older than her, but had fled prior to Snow's first (and only) participation in the Festival. When Emma informed Leda that Regina was dead, she sighed heavily.

“She was always jealous of your mother. It is sad that she transferred that to you, child.”

“She tortured Killian,” Emma said bitterly. “She wanted to take our child.”

Leda covered Emma's hand with hers. Up close, she was not as old as Emma initially thought. Her hair was gray with traces of red, her eyes a warm brown. “This island has been a safe haven for our people for generations, Princess. Your family is safe here.”

“Thank you,” Killian said seriously. “We greatly appreciate your kindness.”

“You must stay here with me until you've built a home of your own. It has been a long time since I have had young ones in my home.”

Emma flushed. “We would not wish to intrude.”

“I insist. My own daughters are grown with their own mates. My husband has passed. It is the least I can do for your mother. I only wish she could have made it here herself.”

Emma looked at Killian. “We might not have met.”

He smiled at her. “I choose to believe that we would, regardless of where we hail from, my love. I can not imagine a life without you.”

“Nor I, you.”

“Then it is settled. You will stay here for the time being. Now how are you feeling? Are you hungry?”

Emma and Killian cleaned up a bit before joining Leda's family for the late afternoon meal. They got to know Phoebe and her mate Jason a bit better, along with Leda's other daughter Daphne. They learned a great deal about the history of the island, the Amazons who had come before them. Phoebe gave them a tour of the palace, having relaxed considerably in the intervening hours. Emma liked her.

“The shrines are just behind that line of trees,” Phoebe reminded them, pointing. “We can prepare your rooms while you make your offerings.”

“Thank you, Phoebe.”

“Emma?”

“Yes?”

“I am sorry for doubting your story. It's just...I have heard tales about Regina since I was a child. I guess I expected her heir to be just like her.”

“She tried,” Emma replied honestly. “There was a time when glory on the battlefield was all I wanted.”

“And now?”

“Now?” She glanced back at Killian, who was sharing a similar moment with Jason. “I just want my family. Killian and our child. Peace.”

“I hope you find it here.”

“Shall we, love?” Killian asked.

Emma nodded, slipping her arm into his. It was late afternoon, the sun setting in the west. They should have just enough time to make their offerings and return before dark. She did not think being outside in a strange place after dark would be an auspicious start to their new life. Everyone was kind and welcoming, but it did not feel like home. Not yet.

* * *

“What about here, darling?” Killian stood in the center of a glade, arms spread wide. “Can you imagine us here?”

Two weeks had passed in their new home and neither thought it felt especially homey yet. They spent much of the first week in the palace with Leda; she was very kind and solicitous of their needs, using her wisdom to ensure Emma ate well and was healthy after their travels. They'd explained about Artemis protecting their baby, but the woman insisted on checking herself. Blessedly, Emma _was_ healthy; in fact, she seemed to glow, the happiness shining through. That was all he wanted, for his love to be happy.

Slowly, they began to relax; the constant vigilance that characterized so much of their time together was more difficult to shake than they expected. Emma still kept her dagger strapped to her leg; Killian still suffered the occasional nightmare. Whenever that happened, Emma was right there, sleepily encouraging him to talk it out, soothing him with her touch. He felt much better than he had, much more himself; it frustrated him that his mind continued to betray him. Time, Emma preached, her fingers gently combing through his hair, was the only cure.

Time was all well and good, but Killian knew she needed something else. He suspected their temporary abode was making her homesick. It looked so much like the palace in Themiscyra, built by the original settlers, according to Leda. It was a fine home, but it was not their home. Killian wanted to give Emma a home fo their own; she deserved that after all they'd been through together. She'd given up everything to be with him, he would spend the rest of his life ensuring she did not regret it.

Emma looked around the glade, lip between her teeth. A creek ran nearby; she could hear the water rushing over the stones. The trees were tall and strong, but they were high enough that she could see the ocean in the distance. The grass was soft under her feet. It was a bit off the beaten path, but she did not mind that. She enjoyed their new friends, but there was something to be said for quiet solitude. “What do you think?”

“I am much more interested in what my Amazon thinks.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “This will be your home too, Spartan.”

“In that case, I like it. Quiet but with access to the creek. I could build a little skiff, perhaps join the fisherman at the beach.”

“Is that what you want to be? A fisherman?”

He scratched behind his ear. “Honestly, I am not sure. I have not thought about it much. But we can not keep imposing on Leda's charity.”

Emma came over and wrapped her arms around his waist. So proud, her Spartan. “I did enjoy your time as the Captain, you know. But I think you should do something that makes you happy.”

“This makes me happy.”

She smiled into his chest. “Something aside from me.”

His large hands rubbed her lower back; it was too early in her pregnancy for her to be sore there, but she appreciated the gesture regardless. “What will you do? Have you thought about it?”

She laid her cheek on his chest. “A little. I believe Leda wants me to just assume my place as Princess, actually try to rule these people.”

“You do not want that.” It was a statement, not a question. Emma's aversion to ruling in her own right was something they'd discussed before.

“I do not know them. I thought the importance of this place was that everyone was equal.”

“I agree. However...” He tipped her chin up. “Do not take this the wrong way, love, but your grace, your dignity, your leadership...that can not be denied. Throughout our adventures, people have looked to you and you have always risen to the occasion. You may not rule them as a princess, but I believe you can be a leader here. You have much to give, Emma.”

She bit her lip; she wanted to deny the truth of his words, but knew she could not. She led armies, was groomed to lead her people from a young age. It was a part of who she was. To deny that would be to deny a piece of herself. And she did not want to run and hide. This was their home now, if she could help improve it, then she wanted to do so. “I will talk to Leda about it.”

“Perhaps include Phoebe and Daphne as well. Their family seems to be the de facto authority.”

Emma stood on her toes and placed a tender kiss to his lips. Killian always knew what to say to ease her mind. “I really do love this location, Killian. I think we should build our home here.”

He beamed down at her, a breathtaking grin. “Then we shall make it so, love.” He swooped down to kiss her soundly; Emma found herself giggling. All the pieces were beginning to fall into place.

They received another surprise when they arrived back at the villa. They'd spoken to Leda about their intent to marry, a process made complicated because they had no home of their own yet. Following the traditional Greek ceremonies felt superfluous, as neither Emma nor Killian had any family left. Those same ceremonies made Killian uncomfortable anyway, as they implied the bride was property to be passed from father to husband. His Emma was a proud fierce Amazon; he never expected her to bow and scrape for him.

Marriages on Porphyris were somewhat different, they'd discovered. They still had the feast and the unveiling, but the bride came to her husband of her own free will, a union of love rather than convenience or arrangement. It seemed while they were gone, Leda had taken it upon herself to arrange a feast for them, something small and intimate with their new friends. Emma left with Daphne and Phoebe to change into a new peplos and veil, Killian with Jason and Daphne's mate, Ariston. They washed in the traditional baths, purifying themselves for their union. Emma was already his in all the ways that truly mattered, but Killian felt giddy about this, like it was the culmination of all their dreams.

Who could have predicted this outcome when he awoke in an Amazonian prison all those weeks ago?

Emma dried herself carefully, actually taking time with her appearance. She would only get this one moment with her Spartan, the chance to see his face as they became husband and wife. Her peplos was silk, the purest white she had ever seen. It seemed to float over her skin, enhancing her pale flesh. The women tied her hair up into a golden cascade, held together with jeweled pins that she knew Killian would relish removing. After fitting the gossamer veil over her head, she breathed deeply, trying to steady her nerves. She wanted this, but there were so many times in the last few weeks where she doubted it would ever come to pass. Her people rejected her, gods wished to see her and her Spartan dead. To have made it to this place, to have finally found a home, was something she never wanted to take for granted.

The trio of women moved toward the main feasting room. It was decorated in greens and blues, splashes of tropical flowers brightening the space. Torches flickered in the sconces, two long tables lined the walls. She and the women settled on the left side, the soft cushions inviting. Servants came through and filled the cups with wine, but Emma did not partake. She kept eyes on the far door, waiting for Killian.

Killian secured the jeweled belt around his waist; it was far more wealth than he'd ever had in his life. It reminded him that he was marrying a Princess, despite her subtle rejection of that status. Emma would always be a Princess in his eyes. His palms itched, the waiting was interminable. At the appointed moment, he led the men into the hall, his gaze zeroing in on his bride. She was covered in a veil, dressed all in white, as was he. He caught a hint of her smile through the thin fabric; he could not help but smile back at her. The feast itself was a blur, their new friends offering congratulations and blessings of the gods for a long and happy life together. Killian knew his Amazon well enough to see her growing impatience and frustration with the veil. She could not remove it, even as she ate. The removing of the veil was the height of the ritual, the ceremonial union of the pair.

Emma downed the the last of her wine, waving off the server who tried to refill her cup. Between the veil and the torches she was stifled, more than ready to get away from this spectacle with her Spartan. She rose, causing all the others to rise as well. She nodded once at Killian, hoping he would follow her lead. She stepped out, walking the length of the table, turning the corner to bring her to the center of the room. With his longer legs, Killian was already waiting for her, the corner of his lips twitching up in a smile.

Killian reached for her hand, bringing it to his lips. She struggled for composure, but the pure joy in her veins was greater than her self control. She was still smiling as he reached for the veil and slowly drew it over her head, the light airy fabric fluttering to the floor. They moved at the same moment, lips meeting in an earnest heartfelt kiss. Killian wrapped her up in his strong arms, lifting her off the floor in his joy. The room erupted in applause, even as the newlywed pair continued to steal kisses, unable (or unwilling) to let one another go.

“Missed you,” she murmured against his lips, forehead pressed to his.

“And I, you, wife,” he replied, relishing the way she fit against him. Emma was soft but firm, her body still fit and toned. She was warm and sweet smelling, intoxicating in every way.

She kissed him firmly, fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. They were finally husband and wife and Emma did not know this sort of happiness existed before him.

They managed to compose themselves long enough to thank their hosts and offer the appropriate prayers to the gods. Killian could almost feel Athena smiling down on them, her mission complete. Prayers and offerings made, Emma took his hand and gently tugged him toward their suite of rooms. Just before they got to the door, Killian scooped her up and carried her inside, her giggles music to his ears.

“Finally,” he sighed, marching them right through the space to the balcony. Emma tightened her arms around his neck, moaning softly as he pressed her against the wall. “Emma.”

She met his kiss enthusiastically, sucking greedily on his tongue, nails digging into his shoulders. Warmth spread through her, the ache building in her core. She wanted him just as much now as she did their first night together, her Spartan, her lover, her _husband._ “Killian...please.”

“Begging already, wife?” he teased.

She ground her core against his straining erection, earning her a groan of approval. “You're one to talk, Spartan.”

“Yes, I am guilty of wanting you,” he murmured, pressing hungry kisses to her throat. “Always.”

She arched into his touch, her breasts rubbing against the silk. “Gods, _more.”_

Killian slid his hands under her ass and lifted her effortlessly, moving them to the waiting chaise. Free of all constraints, they'd taken to stargazing once more, making love under the stars. He laid her out, letting her undress him as he plucked the pins and jewels from her tresses. The gold appeared silver in the moonlight, so soft and silky in his hands. Emma opened her legs for him, holding him in the cradle of her thighs as she licked at his nipples, her hands wandering his body. Her Spartan was perfectly sculpted, so hard and firm and strong, calling to something primal within her.

Killian bit hard on his lip, slowly grinding his erection against her clothed cleft. He wanted to just bury himself in her heat, ride her until she screamed his name, then spend the rest of the night worshiping her like the goddess she was. But he did not wish to rush this first time as a married couple; Emma deserved better than that.

Emma ran her hand down his hard chest and abs, curling it around his cock. “Hmmm.”

He instinctively rocked into her hand, a groan on his lips. “Fuck, Princess,” he swore. “Don't stop.”

She grinned seductively, tugging slowly, just the way he liked. “Love this cock,” she whispered. “Love the way you fill me up, Spartan. So good.”

Killian growled, bucking into her hand. “Careful, Princess.”

“Or what?”

He grunted, wrapping his arms around her waist. In swift move, he switched their positions, Emma in his lap as he reclined against the chaise. He yanked hard on the pins and broach holding her peplos together, peeling it from her delectable body. “Hmm, that is better.”

Emma grinned, sliding back off his thighs and settling on the very edge of the chaise. She cupped her breasts, rubbing and circling the hard nipples, getting wetter as his blue eyes darkened in the moonlight. Her lover watching her as she touched herself made her feel powerful, desirable and sexy; she moaned as Killian took himself in hand and stroked his cock. She wet her lips absently. He was delicious; she wanted to devour him.

“Please, love,” he bit out, hips ricking up. “Suck me with that lovely mouth.”

She could not resist him, not when he was laid out before her like a feast. She swept her hair over her shoulder and bent down, rubbing her cheek over the rigid flesh. He was warm and hard yet silky against her skin. Killian moaned, reaching up above his head to grip the top of the chaise. She traced the throbbing vein with her tongue, lapping at him, just teasing. Her own core throbbed in response, her powerful and dangerous Spartan completely surrendering himself to her ministrations.

His eyes rolled back in his head as she tormented him, her warm tongue ghosting over him. “Emma, Emma, Emma,” he breathed. She was everything, his Amazon, he would gladly submit to her. A strangled groan tore at his throat, her wandering hands slipping between his thighs, fondling his balls, the sensitive place between his legs. Lust shuddered through him, pure want, desperation tingling at the tips of his fingers. He struggled to open his eyes, needing to watch her as she sucked him. She swirled her tongue around the weeping tip of him, lapping at the beads of precum he fed her. By the time she took him into her wet month, he was trembling, a moan of relief on his lips. She was so beautiful, sweet pink lips wrapped firmly around his cock, sucking and lapping at him until he saw stars. His climax tingled at the base of his spine, so close, but she never let him fall.

With a parting kiss to the belled head, Emma reached for his hand, bringing it between her splayed legs. “Feel how wet I am,” she purred. “How much I need you inside me, Spartan.”

Killian wet his lips, fingertips skimming over her soaked swollen cunt. There was a wet spot on the chaise, her essence dripping out of her. “May I have you now, Princess? Need to feel you.”

Emma moaned, pressing herself deeper against his fingers. “Soon, love. That feels so good.”

“This?” He turned his wrist, sinking two digits inside her heat. Her walls gripped him, hips rocking faster. Killian sat up, ducking his head to toy with her nipples as he finger fucked her. Emma sank her fingers into his thick hair, gripping it hard as he manipulated her body. Pressure built quickly; she was so aroused, wet and wanting, a third finger stretched her. “Yes,” she panted. “Oh yes.”

“Come, love,” he whispered into her skin. “Come.”

Emma shattered, her soft cries filling the night. He stroked her through it, dragging it out until she was shaking in his arms. But he was not through with her. Killian growled as he picked her up by the waist, settling her on his hips and impaling her on his cock. Emma screamed again, the abrupt intrusion stretching her so perfectly. “Killian!”

He gripped her ass tightly, helping her ride him, eagerly finding her mouth to swallow her cries. “So hot and tight, Princess,” he growled, nipping at her lips. “Spread those legs for me, love. Let me see you.”

Emma could hardly think, but her body obeyed him. She spread her legs in his lap, her arms wrapping around his neck. She whimpered as he sank even deeper inside her, his gaze dropping to where they were joined. “Killian...fuck, _fuck_ , yes!”

He couldn't tear his eyes away, Emma's body swallowing his cock whole. She was so sweet, hot, gripping him wetly, her walls rippling along his shaft. He loved bringing her pleasure, making her fall apart. He found her lips, devouring them in a heated kiss. “Touch yourself, Princess,” he panted. “Please.”

She kissed him again, wet and sloppy, as she lowered her right hand to her clit. Simply touching the wet swollen nub made her shudder, her breathing hitching as she moaned into his mouth. The things he made her feel were unreal; she needed everything he could give her. “Close,” she breathed. “Fuck.”

Killian squeezed her ass, guiding her hips, urging her faster and harder, skin slapping together as she started to shake. Emma threw her head back and cried out, their hips clashing hard, white hot pleasure scorching her. Killian rode her hard, chasing his own high, grunting out her name as he shot his seed deep inside her womb. He had just enough awareness to catch her as she fell, sagging heavily against his chest. The chaise hit his back, forcing the breath from him, but he paid it no mind. His wife was in his arms, his lovely Amazon, his forever.

It was some time before Emma stirred, curled up in his lap like a cat. Killian thought she was adorable, not that he would say so. “Love?”

“Hmmm.”

“How do you feel?”

Emma nuzzled his chest, his hands rubbing her arm and hip. He just made her feel safe. “Good.”

“Sore?”

“Doubting my word, husband?”

He grinned, relishing that word on her lips. “Never, my love. Perhaps we should continue this conversation in our bed?”

“What's wrong with here?”

“It is getting a bit chilly, Princess. You much take care.”

“Very well.” She moved to rise, but Killian simply sat up and cradled her against his chest, carrying her to bed. She did not let him get far, snuggling close as he pulled the blanket up. He was warm and comfortable, home. “Are you happy, Killian?”

His brows knitted, wondering where her query was coming from. “Yes, Emma. I am happier than I ever imagined. Why do you ask?”

She drew random shapes on the bare skin of his hip. “We have our whole future now. A child on the way. We're building our own home.”

“We are married,” he added with a grin.

“Yeah.” She threaded their fingers squeezing his lightly. “We made it. Everything we dreamed of.”

“I would not change a thing, Emma. Every hurt, every struggle, was worth it, to get us to this moment. I love you and I will always love you. I can not wait to meet our daughter and...” He smirked. “Give her brothers and sisters.”

Emma laughed, hitching her leg over his hip. “Perhaps you should pace yourself, Spartan.”

He ran his fingertips along her spine, stealing a chaste kiss from her lips. “I believe you are the insatiable one, wife.”

“We'll see about that.” She pushed him onto his back, straddling him effortlessly. She bent over to kiss him deeply, shivering as his rough hands began to explore her body. Their love was heat and passion and deep understanding; a fire she would spend the rest of her life nurturing.

 


	11. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end! I hope you all have enjoyed this universe as much as I have. Thank you for reading!

They approached the shrine slowly through a line of torches. It was twilight, the sun setting just over Killian’s left shoulder. On a normal evening, he and his Amazon would be in the front courtyard of their home unwinding from the cares of the day while their little princess played on her blanket. Alexa was growing so fast, a joy in both of their lives; she was finally starting to show her true self. A year after his daughter’s birth, Killian could not be happier with his life.

However, he was all too aware that he and Emma owed their patron a great debt. This ceremony was meant to pay tribute to the generous and kind goddess who made the life they now enjoyed possible.

_“Killian! Killian!”_

_In a flurry of moment, Killian dropped his axe and dashed off in the direction of Emma’s shout. As her time approached, he did not like to be too far away, lest she need him. Leda assured them throughout the long months of Emma’s pregnancy that she was healthy, that all was well, but he could not help but worry. They’d been through so much; he would not breathe easily until he held his daughter in his arms. In the meantime, he worked hard to make the pregnancy as easy on his wife as possible, massaging her feet and back, making sure she ate well, enduring her mood swings and satisfying her lust._

_All during that time they built their new home, with help from all manner of people on Porphyris. It was one of the traditions of the island, that everyone come together to build a newly married couple’s home. Men and women worked side by side, building a sense of unity and pride that neither of their homelands ever truly matched. Day by day Porphyris became a home for them, a place where they could raise their children to see the world the way they now did. It had been a rocky and dangerous road, but freedom was theirs._

_He found Emma by the creek, face contorted in pain, one hand on her large rounded belly. She’d been cooling her weary feet in the clear water, trying to relax when the first powerful cramp gripped her. “I am right here, darling,” Killian said, kneeling at her side. He wrapped one arm around her waist, his other hand covering hers on her belly. “Is it time?”_

_Emma hissed sharply, another twinge of pain shooting through her. “Yes,” she panted. She squeezed his fingers. “I think it is.”_

_“Can you rise, love? We should get you inside.”_

_“Will you stay with me?” Despite knowing for months that her baby was coming—it felt like only yesterday when she felt her daughter move for the first time—now that it was time, she was terrified. She and Killian had created this child together, Emma wanted him there when she came into the world._

_“You never have to ask that, Princess.” He kissed her forehead swiftly, then helped her up. Her girth had increased significantly in the months since their arrival, but she was still beautiful, glowing with happiness. He desired her as much as he ever did, and she him. The fire that united them seemed unquenchable, even as it settled into steady flame._

_Emma leaned on Killian heavily as he guided her into the single floor home. It was Greek in style like most dwellings on Porphyris, but it contained a few Spartan touches. There were times, late at night, where Emma could see how much he missed his home. Sparta would always carry a piece of his heart and she loved him even more for it. The children should know their origins._

_About halfway to their suite, her water broke, a great gush of fluid soaking her loose fitting peplos. Any doubt that their daughter was coming was gone. Killian got her settled in the bed, stripping her of the wet material. Emma winced again as another pain seized her, Killian paused so she could hold his hand. “I have to send word to Leda, sweetling,” he whispered. “Then I’ll wash you.”_

_She nodded mutely, trying to force herself not to panic. Women had been giving birth since time immemorial, she had nothing to fear. Artemis was goddess of childbirth; Emma prayed to her fervently. Still, she let out a breath when her husband returned, a smile on his lips. “Happy about something, Spartan?”_

_He laid out beside her, one hand holding his head up and the other on her swollen belly. “We are finally going to meet her,” he said simply. “Can I not be happy?”_

_“I was taught that men abhorred childbirth.”_

_“Princess, I think we have established that the things you were taught were greatly embellished, if not outright lies.”_

_That drew a smile from her own lips. “Regardless, thank you for staying. I could not do this without you.”_

_He shook his head. “You could, love. You are an Amazon, strong and fierce. You are the strongest person I have ever known.”_

_Perhaps that was true, but she wanted him by her side. She wished to share this moment with him, something that would not have been possible in Themiscyra. The ways of her people demanded that men have no place, even that they were subhuman. It was barbaric and terrible; this was how things were meant to be, with her Spartan at her side, supporting her as she brought the new life they’d created into the world._

_A world that was much better than the one they had left._

_“Have I missed anything?”_

_Both heads shot up, surprised by the voice. Standing at the foot of the bed was a woman, around Emma’s age but slim, her eyes warm and friendly. Even with the change in her appearance, Emma would know her. It was Artemis._

_“I did not expect you to come, Huntress,” Emma said quickly, trying to sit up._

_“Please rest, Emma.” Artemis smiled, lifting a chain from around her neck. She walked gracefully to the other side of the bed, kneeling over Emma to place the necklace around her neck. “This is a long process, especially the first time. I will stay with you, ensure that everything goes as it should.” She laid a cool hand on Emma’s belly. “I can sense her, she’s strong.”_

_While Artemis fussed, Killian gathered more blankets and lit the torches in the room. If the goddess was right, it would be dark before his daughter was born._

_The next hours were long, Emma’s pains coming and going with regularity. Leda offered to come to their home, but Killian informed her that it was not necessary. They had the best midwife that could be imagined, Artemis herself. To distract Emma from the pain, he told her stories, long rambling stories of growing up in Sparta, or his time in front of Troy. Eventually, Artemis suggested they help Emma walk around a bit, encourage things along. She did not seem disturbed by the sheer length of Emma’s ordeal, so Killian tried not to worry either. Emma was healthy. Early on, she took an interest in the training of the young ones, helping Daphne. When her pregnancy made it impossible for her to spar any longer, she tried her hand at some healing concoctions, tending small wounds and scrapes from the trainees. She was good at it, her kind soothing manner just as important as the herbs themselves. Killian could not forget the diligent way she tended him after his torture; she possessed the unique ability for war and healing something he wanted to encourage because it made her happy._

_“Not long now, my love,” he soothed, easing her back into bed. He kissed her belly. “Hurry, little one. We are so eager to meet you.”_

_Emma thought her heart would burst; she could not get over how much her Spartan_ loved _. His love was so deep and true; she was blessed. Aphrodite may have once believed them a threat, but this was all they wanted. To have each other and live in peace with their family._

_“Have you chosen a name?”_

_Emma nodded. “Alexa.”_

_“Athena will like that.”_

_“We owe you both so much,” Killian began._

_Artemis held up her hand. “You owe me nothing,” she said firmly. “All I ask is that you remain true to one another and be happy.”_

_Killian slipped his hand into Emma’s. “Nothing would bring us more joy, Lady.”_

_“Good.” She went about her task of rechecking the supplies, but Emma caught the wistful look on the goddess’ face. Her love had been taken from her, in a very cruel fashion. If their happiness brought Artemis some solace, then Emma was happy to give it._

_She could not dwell on the goddess’ feelings long, as her pains were coming faster and sharper. By the time the moon rose, Emma was drenched in sweat, her hand gripping her Spartan’s for dear life. “Breathe, Emma,” Artemis soothed. “It won’t be long now.”_

_Emma huffed in annoyance, loosening her grip on the sheet for a few precious moments. “How much longer?” she demanded._

_“Emma…”_

_She turned on Killian. “Gods, I’m so tired…”_

_He kissed her slick forehead. “I know, darling. You are doing beautifully. Just be strong for a little while longer. Can you do that for me?”_

_She sighed heavily, but nodded. In moments, another pain lanced through her and she screamed. Artemis quickly knelt between her spread legs. “I can see the head! On your next pain, Emma, push!”_

_Killian squeezed her hand and maneuvered closer, helping her bear down. He bit his lip; his wife was so tiny, usually so slender and slight, hiding her strength. She screamed as he had never heard her scream, high and piercing, but he did not let go. He kept his focus on her as Artemis barked orders and encouragement, updating the baby’s progress. On the final push, he felt something snap, pain shooting up his forearm. He only grunted, everything seeming to slow. Emma sagged back against the bed, exhausted; Killian looked to the goddess._

_“Artemis?”_

_A cry filled the room, then more loud lusty cries. Artemis smiled. “Perfect and healthy, Spartan.” Killian tried to see as the goddess wiped off his daughter’s face with a cloth. Thin blonde strands clung to the child’s head, her little arms flailed. The goddess hummed to her, bouncing her a bit, which soothed her so Alexa could be washed._

_“Alexa?”_

_Emma’s weak and tired voice pulled him back to her. “Artemis has her, love. She’s perfect.”_

_“I want to hold her.”_

_No sooner had she spoken than Artemis was there, carrying small bundle in her arms. “Your daughter, Amazon.” Killian helped her sit up as Emma accepted their baby. Tears welled in her green eyes, love threatened to choke her. Her daughter was so small, looking up at her with Emma’s own eyes. The same eyes Snow had. Alexa wiggled in the blankets, reaching up toward her mother. Emma touched the downy cheek with a trembling finger, tears of joy streaming down her face. “Alexa,” she whispered. “My Alexa.”_

_Killian ran his thumb over his daughter’s forehead, leaning forward to kiss his wife’s hairline. “I love both of you, so, so much, Emma.”_

_“Look at her, Killian. She’s so tiny.”_

_He sat right next to Emma, unable to be anywhere else. “She looks like you, she has your eyes.”_

_“My mother’s eyes.”_

_“Indeed. She’s beautiful, Emma. Our little princess.”_

_Emma never wanted to let her child go, but Killian deserved to hold his daughter. “Take her.”_

_Killian swallowed heavily but nodded. Emma showed him how to position his arms, then gently laid Alexa in the cradle. He chuckled nervously, but settled down as his daughter looked up at him with huge eyes. “Hello, little love,” he said, his voice trembling. Emotions threatened to overwhelm him, the power of this moment forever imprinted on his memory. “Papa’s got you. It’s alright.”_

_Artemis went about cleaning up, using her power to reconstitute the bedding. The new parents were absorbed in their baby, so she saw herself out._

Emma held the amulet in one hand, recalling the night of Alexa’s birth. It was a gift from Artemis, one the goddess had never reclaimed. In the days and weeks since, Emma never took it off, touched by the gift. A year had passed and she was still amazed this was her life. That she was _happy._ Happy did not feel adequate to describe her joy, the contentment that she felt. The first six months were devoted to Alexa; Emma fed her from her own breast, loathe to be apart from her. However, Killian coaxed her out back into their world, the day to day activities of their home. It was all about finding balance, he said once, and she knew that was true. The last thing Emma wanted was to stifle the person her daughter would blossom into. It was her duty to give Alexa the freedom Emma had lacked as a child.

Some days they would go boating as a family, on a vessel Killian built from scratch. It was not very large, but it had a sail and a place for them to picnic while on the water. It was his pride and joy, aside from Alexa. As Alexa got older, Emma had no trouble picturing father and daughter together, sailing out into the little bay. They both loved the water, so it was no surprise their princess did too.

Killian as a father was everything Emma could have hoped for, every day he remined her why she so desperately wanted this life with him. He adored spending time with his daughter, playing with her, making the most ridiculous faces just to make her laugh. They cherished every milestone of Alexa’s growth, reveling the sheer _simplicity_ of this life.

No more fighting, no more struggle, no more war. They found peace.

When they entered the familiar temple, Killian handed Alexa back to her, placing a tender kiss to his daughter’s head. Her blonde hair was growing darker, looking more and more like Killian’s. Emma was delighted with this, Alexa would be a perfect blending of their features, green eyes and dark hair, Killian’s nose and her chin. She was a pretty child, but Emma readily admitted her bias in that regard. She bounced Alexa gently as Killian lit the torches. They were dressed in their finest clothes, soft silk, blue for her and red for him. Red was the color of Sparta, a color he did not wear often. He had a sword strapped to his hip, as did she. As happy as they were, they were still warriors at heart.

“Shhh,” Emma cooed, her lips touching Alexa’s hairline. “Let Papa work, Alexa.”

“She did not nap this afternoon,” Killian reminded her. “She’s tired, love.”

“We’ll put her down as soon as we get back.”

“Thank the gods she has begun to sleep through the night.”

“And just what are you implying, Spartan?” Killian helped her a lot with Alexa, as often as he could. It was so different from what her childhood had taught her to expect, but she appreciated it so much.

Killian walked up to her, an impish grin on his face. “You are as beautiful as ever, Princess. I was merely pointing out that Alexa’s new ability gives us some more time together.”

Emma smiled, flushing pink. Her eyes fluttered closed as he kissed her, a brief brush of lips that she chased down, fusing their mouths together. She effortlessly shifted Alexa to her hip so she could spend a few precious moments kissing her husband. A zing of want rolled through her, his rough hand sliding under her peplos. “Hmmm.”

“Soon, my darling. I’ll have you soon.”

She moaned as he squeezed her ass roughly. “Perhaps we should allow Leda to look after Alexa for the night? I have need of you, Killian.”

“I am sure she would like that.” He kissed Emma again, a passionate promise. It had been some time since they could spend the night together and not worry about awaking Alexa. He wanted to spend the whole night making love to his wife.

It took them a few moments to compose themselves, their attraction still heavy in the air. Holding hands, they approached the statue of Athena, kneeling in supplication. This shrine, like the others, was small; the space dominated by the golden statue. It was Athena in repose, her weapons laid aside to symbolize the peace Porphyris’ inhabitants strived for. It looked nothing like the goddess, but Emma and Killian were the only ones who knew that. It was the symbol that mattered.

Killian cleared his throat. “Pallas Athena, we come to you to fulfil a promise. In Themiscyra, we humbly beseeched you for your protection and guidance. Now, one year later, we wish to present our child, Alexa, for your blessing. We dedicate her to you, great lady, this daughter of Sparta and Themiscyra, a life that would not have been possible without you.”

Emma handed Alexa to Killian, frowning a little as the baby squirmed. Killian hushed her gently, smiling down at his little girl. “Say hello to the goddess, little love,” he murmured. “She’s very important; she found our home. Can you touch the statue for me?”

Alexa looked up at him curiously, her green eyes wide. He would never forget the pure innocence and love in his daughter’s eyes; this was what they fought so hard for. He stepped closer to the statue, taking Alexa’s small hand and placing it on the foot of the looming statue. When he did, there was a flash, blinding white light and Killian jumped back, covering Alexa’s head.

“My apologies, Spartan,” a familiar voice said. “It did not mean to startle you.”

“Lady Athena?”

“You summoned me?”

“Not exactly, we merely wished to present Alexa.”

The goddess smiled. “You named her after me.”

Emma stepped forward. “We thought it was fitting; you helped us get here so she could be safe.”

“I helped you so all of you could enjoy the peace you have more than earned,” Athena corrected gently. “May I see her?”

Killian shared a glance with Emma, who came up and laid a hand on her husband’s shoulder. “It is our honor, lady.” They remained still as the goddess approached, but Alexa seemed to notice that something was different about this. She began to fidget and whine, struggling in Killian’s hold. Both parents tried to calm her, but Athena paid it no mind. She did not have a natural way with children, had not truly interacted with them much, but she genuinely liked these mortals. She offered the baby a smile and deftly touched her forehead. Almost instantly, Alexa calmed, waving her little hands up at the newcomer.

“I see good things in her future,” Athena observed. “Take my blessing with you, child, in all that you do.”

Both Emma and Killian were profoundly moved by Athena’s words, by her care of their child. “Thank you,” Killian said, his throat tight. “This means so much to us.”

“You have served me well, Spartan. Both of you. I trust you are happy here?”

“Yes, my lady,” Emma spoke up. “Very happy.”

“I am glad to hear it. It will interest you to know that Aphrodite is no longer hunting you. Her son, Aeneas, managed to flee Troy before it fell. I am quite sure she has forgotten you even exist. Therefore, if you should ever desire to leave here, you will be safe from her.”

Killian’s eyes lit up. “We could visit Sparta?”

“If that is your wish.”

“Thank you, Lady Athena.”

“It is my pleasure. Now I believe you have better things to be doing?”

Both flushed as the goddess disappeared. Emma wondered if she would ever get accustomed to the comings and goings of deities. The sudden disappearance of her new friend startled Alexa and she began to cry softly. Emma took her back, kissing her daughter’s head. “Shh, baby,” she cooed. She loosened her peplos so Alexa could feed, which instantly calmed her.

“Little love was hungry,” Killian chuckled.

“She’s always hungry.”

“Would you still like Leda to take her for the night?”

Emma reached for his hand, which he slipped into hers. “Very much. I want to spend some time with you.”

“Would any of that time involve practicing to give our princess a brother or sister?”

She smiled at his waggling brows. “Only if you’re very good, Spartan. Can you follow instruction?”

He squeezed her hand. “I am entirely yours to command, Emma. Always.”

She drew him in for a brief kiss. “Then let’s go home.”


End file.
